PARAKLETE
by PanicButton
Summary: reidCentric......PARAKLETE Greek for comforter. NonCon/slash whump and pain...
1. Chapter 1

PARAKLETE

Chapter 1

**A/N: A CONTINUATION FROM THE LAST FIC. NON CON/SLASH**

* * *

They lay in the warm sweet comfort of an old barn.

Shafts of wintery light playing with dust motes.

The two forms lay entwined at the edge of the large outbuilding. The Taller one with his legs drawn up tight to his chest…the smaller man behind him with his arms wrapped around his companion and one of his legs bent up and pressed hard against the young man's back.

The one in front has his eyes closed and the gentle rise and fall of his chest looks safe and comforting and calm. The one behind is staring out into the dim light of the barn. Occasionally blinking dust from watery eyes. Every few minutes his hand would come to his face and wipe away the dampness attempting to escape from the corners of his eyes.

Then one hand begins to play gently with the hair of the taller one. Twisting it gently and caringly around his fingers….watching carefully each strand of hair as it laces around dirty filth encrusted hands.

So many things he needed to say….but Spencer was awake now and so the words would have to stay inside him. He cant let anyone know this vulnerability of his. This desire…more than that…this need…He needs Spencer to stay alive. They are part of the same thing….They are and always will be bonded.

Yet still he had to be careful. He has to protect. He has to keep Spencer away from the others who try to corrupt this pureness. He can feel the bubbling in the chest….and hear the gentle wheezing in and out of those damages but slowly…with his help…healing lungs.

As Spencer moaned softly in his sleep, Floyd comforted him again with gentle kisses on the back of his neck and calming gentle sounds… "It's OK babes….I have you…everything will be alright." And as the warm breath drifts over the weaker man's the other relaxed and the dream stops alarming Reid and he drifts back into gentle slumber.

-o-o-o-

He was going to be fine.

More than anything it was shock.

His skin had been burned but nothing which would leave permanent scars…he was lucky…or Flanders knew exactly what he was doing. Rossi stood by Hotch's bed with his hands in his pockets and looked at the man who led the team. They needed to know what to do next. Reid had gone…Flanders had disappeared too…it didn't take the genius to tell them that they were together…though if voluntary or through force they didn't know.

Morgan standing at the foot of the bed looked over the chart hanging there…but the medical notes didn't mean an awful lot to him….Only that red alarming numbers were now in black and they were spaced further apart. Less numbers…not in red…had to be a good thing.

"We need to find Reid." Morgan was not letting this thing drop. "That sonofabitch has him."

Hotch turned his head slowly to look at Rossi. The signs that he is in pain evident in his eyes…not just physical pain. "Dave…pull the team back together…we are still on a case."

Dave nodded slowly. "We are sorely depleted Hotch. I will talk to Strauss about getting this case assigned to another team. We need to heal. We need to repair. You need to repair."

Aaron closed his eyes and turned his head to look away from his friend. The pain in his heart too much. He didn't want to show them how much Flanders had damaged him…not just physically…but emotionally and he didn't want to see the fear he had for Spencer to show in his eyes.

"I'll be off then." Morgan's voice. He turned and began the slow walk from the hospital room. "There will be guards on your door Hotch. There is nothing to worry about."

But there was plenty to worry about. They hadn't seen what that mad creature could do…two uniformed cops at the door weren't going to stop him…and the images going through his head of what he might be doing to Spencer weren't ones he was willing to share.

They had wanted to use a rape kit on him but Aaron refused. He could tell what happened…and there had only been one other person in the room…He held no doubts in his heart as to what the creep did to him when he was unconscious. Though why he would was beyond him. They had found traces of semen and other bodily fluids on the bathroom floor…some his own…the semen was unknown. So did the monster stand and masturbate as he watched him writing in pain? What the hell sort of mentality caused a man to do that? And the fact that he had taken Spencer…he was trying to force that as what happened into him mind thought there was no proof.

Reid was gone.

The nurse was dead.

There was no sign that anyone else had been there. As a crime scene the place was taped off and being checked for all and everything….but so far there was no sign that Flanders had been there. At least there was no sign that he had stood and masturbated over Reid's slumbering form….A small….very small comfort.

-o-o-o-

"Babes." He breathed the word over Reid's ear and saw with satisfaction the way though still sleeping…Spencer shuddered and moved his hand to the side of his face…a sudden deep breath from his though and Floyd could feel him tense up with the pain. He needed to fix him.

But not yet.

There was something very special about seeing the man he lived for being in so much pain. He loved the taste of the sickly sweat on his skin. He loved the vulnerable way he was existing for now…He needed Floyd…and Floyd loved that.

"We have to make a move soon Spence. We cant stay here."

And slowly Reid began to awaken.

Laying in the soft hay with the gentle scent drifting up his nose for a while he wondered where he was. He frowned as confusion tried to swallow him up…but there was no mistaking the hands pressed needingly against his chest or the words being directed gently across his ear. "We need to go sweets…before the farmer knows we are here." And so slowly Spencer moves his aching body away from the comfort of the arms and legs and rolls over to face.

He blinks as he looks at the form which had been holding him. Floyd looked ill. He looked small and dirty and ill. Slowly Spencer reached out and touched the sallow skin on the side of Floyd's face. Flanders just blinked back in response.

"You don't look well." And now Reid's fingers were following the line of Floyds perfectly formed mouth. "What happened?"

The mouth licked at the fingers and twitched almost into a smile. "I just got a bit down on my luck for a while. I'm fine….it's you – you.." and he took the hand which had been probing his face and kissed the back of his hand. "I worry about you."

Spencer swallowed and took another deep breath…and this time Floyd could see the look of pain which accompanied it. This time though Reid started to cough…and Floyd watched with a frown as Reid rolled to his front and pushed to his hands and knees and started a long session of hacking and coughing…He watched the man he thought he probably loved spit out dark red clumps of blood and though he knew how much pain it was causing Spencer…though he knew it was slowly destroying the younger man's lungs…though he had this information…and knew full well that Reid should be in hospital…he was enjoying it. He could reach out and gently rub at Spencer's back. He could be the caregiver and the comforter…Reid would rely on him for everything if he kept him at this level of sickness….

As long as he could fuck him and not kill him.

But then again….

It made Floyds stomach clench and the hairs on the back of his hands stand on end…and with Reid on his hands and knees and able to do much about it….and as he was still in hospital wear…He got to his knees and whilst Reid coughed and sweated and shook trying to get his lungs to draw in a new lot of air…Floyd moved in behind.

"Just tell me if you don't want this." A generous offer as he knew Reid wouldn't be able to say no….

Flanders slid his hands up the back of Reid's pyjama top and with one hand holding Spencer's shoulder he used to other to ready himself and then Reid. He knew…he could feel the small bit of resistance…he could feel the other man trying to pull away from him….if he listened to Reid and not his own harsh lust filled breaths he would have heard the word "no." but he didn't…or if he did he chose to ignore it.

He could feel the invasion…and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was still struggling to breathe…to pull air into his weakening body…he couldn't fight off Flanders too. He could feel the hands touching him and working him…and he knew he was responding in a manner satisfactory to Floyd…but personally this wasn't enjoyment…this was rape….

A few times he managed to say the word " no" and "stop" but Floyd couldn't hear. He assumed that he took the shuddering of his body as pleasure not as fear and pain. As dark stars began to shoot over his vision…and as the room took on the sickly grey look and Spencer could feel his body giving up the fight…he felt the hands move to his hips and hold him in place.

"Stop – please."

But the words went unheeded as Spencer slipped into unconsciousness…and Floyd slipped into Spencer.

How perfect.

He stopped resisting.

He stopped breathing too…………………

-o-o-o-

Rossi sat next to Hotch who was slowly recovering from the physical wounds Flanders had given him but he was not stupid …he knew more had gone on than Hotch was letting on and he knew that Reid's sudden departure from their everyday lives was bothering him more than he was trying to show.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Rossi offered.

"Talk about it?" Hotch sounded so tired. The pain was slowly wearing off but it had taken a lot out of him.

"You are due to go home tomorrow. You can stay with me. I would like you to stay with me."

Hotch's home was a smoking shell still…The insurance company was being stubborn paying up…and until some movement happened in that direction he wasn't able to find a new home. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to take away the image again of Reid trapped in that back room…He wanted to blame Flanders for it….he was desperate to pin that on him…but there was no evidence that he was in any way involved in the fire.

"That would be good." He finally said. He needed to be cleared so he could return to work. Laying healing in hospital was not Aaron's favourite pastime. Actually what he needed to do was find Spencer. If there was a Spencer to find anymore. He wasn't sure if there was.

Now that any probable infections had cleared and his skin was peeling off nicely he was feeling a lot better…though he probably looked worse. He had to keep his skin covered in a slimy gook and he was definitely not cleared to return to work. His mind though was the slowest to heal.

"Any news?" His voice was a sigh.

He didn't have to ask news of what…everyday he asked the same question…every day for a month and always the same answer. A slow shake of the head and the words. "Nothing yet." But how hard were they looking? Surely two men as distinctive as Reid and Flanders would be easy to find. They were in a stolen vehicle which had never been seen again and one of them was ill…how can they not be found?

Hotch sighed again and looked over at Rossi. "I want that Flanders."

"He will be found." Fiddling with the news paper.

"Dave – he will kill Reid. He has to be found."

"He attacked you Aaron. He will be found and he will be punished for it. I promise."

But Hotch knew it was an empty promise.

"And Spencer?"

He got a shrug in return. "We need to find them first Aaron. We don't even know if Reid is ……" He stopped and just looked at Aaron. "And we don't know if he went voluntarily."

Hotch nodded. "Then you need to – we need to….someone needs to find them!"

Rossi stood up. "I think by being here I am just getting you agitated. I'll be back tomorrow with something you can wear back to my place."

Hotch nodded…he could feel tears of anger and frustration building up in his eyes….he didn't want Rossi to see this….but Flanders took Reid from the hospital a full month ago. His heart doubted he would see Reid again…not the Reid he wanted to see anyway.

-o-o-o-

A small overgrown house.

Until the past few weeks no one had lived there for a while.

It stood at the very back of a small clearing which used to be the lush gardens of a huge house – long ago fallen down…burned down…abandoned. All that was left was the basement rooms…the over grown gardens…and this…this small gardeners cottage right at the back. The gardens themselves had become part of the forest. A small area of about one hundred foot around the cottage was cleared of all but stubbly grass and a few wild flowers….it was on this grass that Floyd sat and smoked. He as stripped down to shirt and jeans…his bare toes curled up and felt the cold dampness of the grass. Behind him in the cottage was a few old rooms…One of them had a large old iron bedstead with a sagging dirty mattress and it was on this that Spencer lay. He was on his side…one leg out straight and the other bent up close to his chest. One arm was bent and curled protectively around his head and the other was tucked up under his chin. He lay with his eyes open staring out at the dim light of the fading day…the only sound was the continual wheezing of his chest and the occasional cough.

He knew he was getting worse. He had thought Floyd would help him, but he hadn't and he wasn't going to ask. He knew Floyd was angry, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was that had made him so annoyed with everything.

Floyd hardly spoke to him. He gave him food….he gave him water…he offered smokes and drugs…but he didn't offer the comfort he needed. Night after night he lay alone on the stinking bed listening to his own breathing, afraid to sleep in case Floyd wasn't there to wake him up if he began to struggle. Time after time he felt the weight of Flanders behind him…taking him like some blow up doll…like a sex toy…not the friend or lover he had wanted. He had tried talking to Floyd. He had tried asking what was wrong….but in return got fists to his face and then left to think about what filth he was…what scum he was….what a perverted freak he was….alone…

Flanders sat and smoked….

He lay down and snorted powders up his nose. He listened to the sound on Spencer's laboured breaths and did nothing to help him.

Floyd would stand for hours in his filthy clothes with a drink in his hand or a smoke or both…and he would listen to the bubbling of Spencer's breathing….watch the man he thought he loved slowly dying. He could heal him…but he wanted…wanted more first. He wanted so much to be gentle…to caress and kiss and lick and love….but only ever managed to hurt and maim. So now he sat on the grass – and considered what to do next.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2 A New Home

Chapter 2

A New Home.

**A/N: NON CON/SLASH**

* * *

I stand and watch him for a while.

Something inside of me says that I want to help him…that I shouldn't have taken him from hospital maybe. I should have left him there, but there he was going to die too…at least he will be with me.

He wants to be with me.

Why wouldn't he want to be with me?

I kneel on the floor next to the bed and lean on the mattress with my elbows. My chin resting on my hands and I just look at him.

There is a temptation to touch….to run my hands over that soft flesh…but I can't…I know it won't stop there and he is sleeping.

I want to pinch and scratch and I lean forward and rest my face by the back of his legs…and I want to bite and hold him to me….

Quickly I stand and I move back from him. I want him…I want him so badly that my mouth is watering….but I know he is growing to hate me and fear me….and I just want him to love me….

This is so much shit.

I leave the room and end up outside again. It is cold tonight…cold and dark….but I still remove my boots and walk out onto the grass. It's one of those damp dark nights….you know what I mean…the ones where you should be able to smell bonfires and hear children playing. I pull some snort out of my pocket and find a bit of grass I can lay down on. I don't mind the dampness seeping through my back….I don't mind it….

Here's the thing.

I was recovering…I had to a point….see my feet? No you can't….I'll tell you about them…they are trashed…the bad skin was healing back…but I used my energy on Hotchner….and now…its stopped…they hurt like bastards as they slowly get better….I cant heal me and keep me with it as such…and heal Spencer….Actually I tried…I bloody tried….and I can't heal Spencer. Thoughts were there for a while that I could or should return him to a hospital….if he dies…if that happens…then I get my final fuck…but I've lost him again…and this time it will be for real…this time I will be released too…but shit…I don't want him dead! I might be a bit of a shit sometimes…but I don't want my Spence dead. I thought about taking Hotchner….offering him in place of Spence….but that will mean returning to the city and that's a risk I don't want to take.

So I am laying on the wet grass with my pinch of wonder resting on my nail and a smoke in my hand and I will get high and I will think about this again when my head is clear….when my feet stop hurting…when my soul is rested….when they give me back what I gave up.

"You are taking your time!"

I hiss out into the night….and inhale my grey powders and suddenly everything is rosy.

-o-o-o-

I sleep a lot. I'm confused by what is going on. The pain is a continuous stabbing tearing sensation in my chest….and I am afraid to sleep. If I sleep I know I will stop breathing. I know I will die….and I don't really think Floyd will care beyond the first shock of finding me cold.

I try to hard to stay awake….I can feel him leaning on the bed and I brace myself waiting for the pain….but nothing happens…this time he leaves me alone, this time he gets up and leaves the room. I roll over on the bed and look at the closed door and wonder what the hell is going to happen. Will anyone find me? And what is wrong with Floyd? Does he have Ardal somewhere? The images which shoot through my head hurt. How can I love Floyd when he spends his days thinking up ways to hurt me? I don't understand my thought process and it annoys me. I want to be able to work out what is going on… but how can you when he is very obviously insane – and has been for as long as I can remember him? And that is a long time. Gideon said he was incapable of love. Jason knew Floyd. I couldn't hide anything from him. He said he was a sociopath….but he's not. He can love. This is how he loves. I know he loves me….and I know I love him in return. I know he would never….I know deep down that he wouldn't……

I blink at the door and move again onto my other side. I think of Hotch and of Garcia….I think of Elle and how then my thoughts are drifting to how many people I have known and how many have been destroyed by this job. Emotionally I am fine. I could go back to work. I could….I know I could…but physically….

Always the freak…

And though I try to keep my eyes open…there really isn't much I can do about it….slowly they close and when I awaken I remember why sleeping is such a bad idea.

-o-o-o-

I can see the clouds scudding over above me….so fast and there are monsters in the sky. I lay on the grass and call out to them… "Come on you wankers….don't be running from me!" and some of them turn to look at me…but others laugh and run off….

When the pinky blob thing blocks my view I flail out at it. "Fuck off." But I cant touch it….it's too far away….and suddenly there are too many of them…not all pinky…some dark…like demons in my thoughts….

When the pain starts I think at first that abuse of the sky has gotten me in trouble….but naaa…it's not that….it's something else….my hands feel denim….and…leather…and my ribs feel boot and my eyes see flashes of movement…quick flashes of movement and the pain in my face starts.

I want to shout a warning….but I don't know who to….to me I think…but it's too late. I try to find Hotchner amongst the pinks and blacks and greys…and yellows moving around me too fast…much to fast….and my hands, my fingers, they reach out and try to grab something….to stop this…this whatever it is….my head wont let me think…the drugs are still working their way through me…I haven't even reached that event horizon…my personal drugged out climax…and my hands are being held….and my arms and as I kick and twist under the attack they continue with what I assume is kicking and things start to go dark…

Spencer.

I need to protect Spencer….I use every last bit of whatever it is in me to crawl away….but my head is spinning now…they have let go of me…I can hear laughter…and I am crawling…I think I might be…or am I just laying here drooling and imagining it?

I can't see the sky anymore….I am trying to open my eyes but my powders are finally reaching their happy point and I try to stop them…I do try so bloody hard…I tell my body to metabolise it…and it tries for a second or so…I can feel it trying…then it gives up…it slips back again…and as I lay and howl and scream they pull my head to the side – avoiding my teeth – and something sharp stabs into the side of my neck….

………. "Fuck you!" I manage to say….or did I just think it? And the world starts to go very dark….and silent…..and all I can see is shadows as I lay twitching slightly in the grass. They roll me onto my back…or is it my front…I don't know anymore…and they restrain my hands…and then my feet….and they stuff something into my mouth and tie a gag around my face and they drag me….

NO! I want to shout at them….I want to fight them…but I can't do anything….they are taking me towards the house with Spencer in it….

Shit…no…not there…I don't want them to find Spence…I don't want him to go through whatever I have just had to….not Spence….I need to tell them to leave him alone…but I can't. I can't talk…I can't think beyond 'I have to get away'

Hotchner you will die for this….you will fucking die….even if this isn't you….I will track you down….and I will hang your pretty white boy skin on my wall…I am going to sodding fillet you!

-o-o-o-

Rossi and Hotch stood together looking out of the big window at the back of the apartment. It was raining. A big storm. The clouds had been building up all day and now that Rossi had finally brought him home – not that this was his home….but he was here.

"You must avoid alcohol."

Hotch had been told…and right now all he wanted to do was relax in a bath of oily water to sooth his skin with a beer in his hand – but the storm was fascinating and painful. He stood and watched people running down the almost deserted streets….watched the flashing of car lights washing away in the rain and he wondered about Spencer. What he was doing…where he was and it was painful not knowing….not having contact with him. All that time…All that time Flanders had thought Spencer was dead…months…for months….did he feel this much pain?

Flanders he thought was likely a schizophrenic with paranoid delusions….maybe why Spencer was able to cope with him…It felt almost normal for him. Flanders was also a sadistic psychopath and this was the bit which scared Aaron…He knew what anger and spite there was inside that man…he just hoped he wasn't taking it out on Reid.

"Coffee?" Dave asked and Aaron could see his reflection in the window. So many sad faces….so much had happened and gone wrong…and changed…nothing could be dragged back and be the same.

"He raped me." Hotch suddenly blurted out. "I was unconscious….but I know what he did to me." And Rossi rests a hand on Aarons shoulder.

"You need to see a counsellor." Helpful suggestion from Dave….

And Hotch makes sure that Dave can't see his eyes…because he knows there will be too much pain reflected in them. "I don't think a counsellor will be able to help."

"They haven't given up Aaron, but Spencer is a grown man…not a child…and a genius…if he doesn't want to be found……."

"You think he has a choice?" Hotch sounded snappy and annoyed. He wanted his own home…his own things…his own life…and someone had taken it all away from him. That day when they went on the weekend to bond…team work…that was when it fell apart. "I need a drink."

Rossi flicked his eyebrows at Hotch and nodded. "Coffee." Was his reply.

"I used to wonder Dave…I really had a problem understanding why Reid – why he abused drugs the way he did. He said it was to forget. I didn't understand at the time. I do now. I want to tell him…I want to let him know it is alright…that I understand….I need him to be found."

The hand on Hotch's shoulder tightens for a short while and then drops. "Alcohol isn't the answer."

And Aaron nods…. "I know…but it will be a refuge…for a day or so…during this….this storm."

-o-o-o-

I howl in pain as suddenly I am grabbed and pulled over onto my back….It's dark and I can hear a rain storm thundering outside. I open my eyes expecting to see Floyd and look up into the dark eyes of a brown skinned youth. I open my mouth to say something but a finger resting on my lips shuts me up.

"So that psychopath has been keeping a little toy?" The person says….and now I am worried about Floyd but I stay quiet. "So what is your name freak?" But I'm not going to give my name….I try to look around the room to see who else is there…I'm not delusional enough to think I can fight my way out of this…talking will be what I need to do here but I need to assess the situation properly first. I can hear laughing and small scrabbling sounds and my eyes flick over in that direction….It will be alright….Floyd will be here soon….

And my heart sinks…and I think I want to scream….

Floyd is restrained….he is looking directly at me but there is no life behind his eyes….He has been tied to a chair holding him in place…and I look and I try to see if I can see his chest moving and there is nothing…His head is slightly to the side…his mouth gagged….his eyes though…staring at nothing….and I can see a small trickle of blood making it's way down the side of his neck

I try to move but the sudden shock and to be honest the fear brings on an attack of coughing…and my eyes water with the pain as I roll over to my side and try to breathe and try to get the image of a defeated looking Floyd out of my head and I attempt…fruitlessly to ignore the hands pulling at me and touching me and I can hear the cat calls and obscenities being directed at me.

"Filthy pervert."

"Scum."

"Homo-boy is going to get a treat."

And the laughter as they haul me over onto my back and rip my scant clothing from me and they laugh and touch my scars and they watch as in a panic I try to pull the air into my body to allow me to fight them off…but there is nothing….

"Keep still fag…or I we will shoot your little bum chums brains out."

And so I let them. I lay and look at Floyd staring back at nothing and wonder what the hell they did to him….and someone is pulling at my legs…and the laughter…it makes me want to be sick. As the air finally pulls into my lungs I can feel it bubbling through the blood…and will this be it? Is this the end? Will I be found rotting here one day…crawling in maggots and they will know…when my body is looked at by the pathologist…she or he will know….I was screwed until I died.

So I try to keep my eyes on Floyd…but he is becoming clouded as my tears are fogging my vision and hands are holding my arms above my head….and fingers are wrapped around my ankles…and pushing on my legs to make my knees bend…and hands on my knees.

And the abuse starts.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3 Stroke

Chapter 3

Stroke

* * *

I can about see…only just…but there is something wrong.

I am trying to work out what they gave me. I thought it was a drug at first…I thought they had….had given me an overdose of something…but they haven't. Watching what they are doing to Spencer….I can see the look on his face…I can see his body jerking as they pound at him and I see at first how he bites at his bottom lip as he looks at me…then I see how he has stopped trying to fight them…I can see the blueness creeping around his lips and I need to alert them…tell them to stop and help him but I cant move…I can't help him…and they will kill him if they keep doing that….

He is on his back…they are touching and hurting him…and the mocking laughter is a bit to much.

I blink.

He blinks back.

And for now that is all the communication we have…I can see his chest suddenly heaving inwards as he tries for breaths. And I want to shout out to him…encourage him…but something is popping in my brain and slowing me down…I want to move and struggle and give him some kind of hope as they rape him but all I have is that one blink. That one acknowledgment. I'm here Babes….I'm here…and you know I wont let anyone hurt you….but….they already are.

Their skins will………………

They will………..and my brain feels like it has bubbles popping inside it….the pain it's causing is making me shake….I don't know if they can see….I don't know if they realise that…I can feel blood trickle from my ear….and I can feel it trickle from my nose…and I think Spencer can see as he turns his face towards me again with his lips slightly parted and a sudden look of shock on his face as……

As …..

My brain………….it hurts….and it something is breaking…I can feel it…almost like…..

No….

Exactly like bubbles….air bubbles…They are trying to kill me with something which might actually have some kind of effect on me. I am shaking uncontrollably…and they are moving away from Spencer who is curling into a ball and looking at me and I want to get up and….and …..get up…..and I want to get up and…hold him – hurt him….I want to….I don't want to ….and I can see the look on his face change to that of alarm….and it rains. I think.

-o-o-o-

They back off me suddenly. I suck in air and look over at Floyd who is just staring blankly back at me…I don't know if he is awake or dead or sleeping drugged…I cant tell…my eyes are too sore and wet and foggy to see. I can see though….I can see although I can't see his chest move with breathing…I can see he is shaking…I can see a trickle of blood suddenly run and pop and bubble from his ear and then from his nose….and the shaking gets worse…He is alive…for now….I don't know how much longer though...and for the first time in a long time I need him. I need him to be alive and well and near me.

I watch as the seizure takes place and his eyes roll back and the chair rocks with the force of the attack his body is under…and I want to ask what they have done to him…how can these people have harmed him like this?

…………..all the times I wanted him away from me….all the times I lay here and wished he would go and never come back…and now I know I need him….I want to call his name…but I just lay and watch the small crowd of guys stand back watching….and as the fitting stops and the noises from the back of his throat stops and the drooling starts I want him to stop…I want to shout at him to stop messing around and kill these people and get me out of here….

He can do what he wants to me…just wake up…wake the hell up Floyd! They push the chair he is tied to down to the floor and it reminds me horribly of the time Hankel had me. I see the way his head hits the hard wooden flooring and bounces as it cracks…and again he makes soft noises from the back of his throat and finally I also let them know how I feel….

My mouth just opens and the noise that comes out and it is a howling scream of distress you might mistake as being from an animal…but I just need them to stop it…I need them to stop this now…I need them to untie Floyd and fix whatever it is they have done to him….but for now….for now the distraction is enough….they stop looking at him twitching and groaning on the floor still tied…still bleeding and they turn their attention back to me.

I know…I know what he has been doing to me. I know he has been keeping me here….and I know…I know once we are out of this it will continue…but for now my obligation is to be the target. It is what I am trained to do.

"What's wrong?" One of them says to me. "Don't like to see him dying there?"

I ignore the words and curl up tighter feeling too exposed and too vulnerable and unable to help.

Someone grabs my hair and pulls my head around and others pull at my limbs and drag me so I have rolled over to my other side and can no longer see Floyd…

"NO!" I shout at them…but it's the same…it is always the same…talk…and you get a beating. Shout at them and the beating is worse.

-o-o-o-

It's hard to keep my mind on what I am meant to be doing.

"He is no longer a member of the BAU…you cannot use our resources." Strauss has said…but I need to find him. All the places we can think of have been visited and searched and contacted….No one has seen Reid. No one has seen Flanders…and believe me…when that man is found I will ensure he in incarcerated and never sees freedom again. The attack on me is enough for that…even if Reid won't step up to the plate and admit what has been going on with them…even without that … will see that Flanders life is not worth living.

"Hotch." Someone touches me gently on the arm. Emily. I turn slowly to face her pulling my expression back to my normal stoic one and not the one of despair I think I was wearing as I was thinking. She is holding out a coffee for me. "I wish there was something I could do to help." Her voice is soft.

I nod at her. "I need him found." And her hand tightens on my arm.

"We all want him found Hotch…but if he doesn't want to be then there is not much we can do."

"You really think he wants to be with Flanders?"

She shrugs at me. "I don't know…I really don't know…they have had a relationship for a while…we don't know what went on behind closed doors."

I take the coffee and wrap my fingers tightly around the mug sucking up the warmth. "That is what worries me Emily. I have seen the violence that man can wield. I don't want Reid to be going through what I was."

The hand drops from my arm and I look at Emily as she sighs and looks at the floor. "I know. I understand."

But how can she? She didn't see the look on that man's face….she didn't feel the power behind those fists…

She has no idea how I feel about Spencer. How can she understand?

I am still in pain. I can still smell him on me. I can still feel him touching me. I can feel his hand pressing down on my chest holding me under the water….and I don't want Reid to be going through the same…

"Excuse me."

I walk away from Prentiss and across to the men's rest rooms….and here I kneel and vomit into the white bowl…and tears spring to my eyes as unwanted images of what Flanders is doing to Spencer leap unbidden into my mind.

-o-o-o-

I don't know where I am….

It's dark and I am laying down on something and I can't move. There is a horrible whistling sound in my ears…and flashing lights in front of my eyes.

Lovely it would be…to move my arms…to move my legs…but I don't…I can't. All I can do is lay here and look at the lights…

Red and golden and blue…and silver…they flash over my vision and they cut out everything else.

I'm thinking I want to call out to Spence…I want to know where he is but when I open my mouth I realise I cant remember how to say the words I need…they are in my head…but they wont come out. I blink a few times to try to get the lights to go away but they are still there when something touches my face and words are said to me…but I don't know what the words are and I cant make out what is being said. I try again to move my hands up to grab what is touching me and….and…I don't know what…I just want to know what it is…

It's gentle…

It's fluttering and delicate.

-o-o-o-

They pounded me into the mattress then they left….but I know they are not far away. I can hear them talking and laughing…I can smell cigarette smoke….and I can see Floyd.

He's been untied and he is laying on his back making strange noises. I just lay for a while and look at him. I am expecting him to get up and walk over to me…but he doesn't.

Quickly I look around the room for the grubby hospital clothes I had been wearing. They are thrown to the back corner of the room…and though I know they are going to be vile and scratchy and filth encrusted at least I will feel less exposed. I crawl to the edge of the bed and then roll so I am on my side and then I push up to sit...my legs over the side of the bed and the sole of my feet on the board floor of the cottage room.

It's when I go to stand that I realise how much damage these people have actually done to me. Maybe some of the damage is from Floyd too…but somehow my mind allows me to forget that…and it puts all the blame on the strangers…

Almost as though I am telling myself that Floyd has a right to abuse me…and they don't. I have no arrangement with them…I never loved them…I never told them my deepest darkest secrets and I never trusted them with my life. I drop to my knees and crawl slowly and painfully over to where my scant clothing has been discarded.

"Floyd." I mutter…I need to hear his voice…it comforts…it protects even when it is angry. "Talk to me Floyd." I say….but there is no reply from him…It hurts when I pull on the pyjama bottoms…The back of my legs are bruised and covered in bites and small cuts….and I can tell that I have been bleeding from where they ripped their ways into me. I close my eyes and lick my lips and try to divide the assaults up…I try to force the memory of what Floyd had been doing to me to the happy side…and the other stuff to the bad…and it wont let me….it's all become one big blur of pain.

I make my way slowly now to Floyd...

He is laying with his arms at his side and his eyes staring up at the beamed ceiling.

"Floyd." I say to him again…and he doesn't seem to respond…I reach out and carefully touch the side of his face….half expecting him to bounce up and attack…but he doesn't. He just lays and does nothing. My hands want to shake him and wake him up…but I remember the blood on his neck and I can see the crust of dried dark stuff around his nose and so I carefully push his hair out of the way and there….there is a nasty scab of dried blood around his ear.

"Floyd…what did they do to you?" I run my fingers over his warm skin…I place a hand onto his chest and I can feel the very slight movement there. It's soft smooth breaths…unlike my harsh bubbling ones… "Wake up." My voice is quiet and rough sounding. "Please just wake up Floyd." But it doesn't look like he is going to.

My fingers make their way to his neck and they run over the bump in his skin where a needle or something has been stuck into him…I rub at the blood which has escaped from him and put my fingers to my nose…I want to know if I can smell a drug…I need to know how to help him, but there is nothing telling about the scent on his skin and so I lay down on the floor with him and I rest my head over his chest and I reach over and grab and hand and hold on tightly to him.

Yes I know…I know what he is. I know he is schizophrenic. I know he is psychotic. I know he is violent. I also know he is loving and gentle and right now he is in need of some comfort from someone else…right now he is ill…and I think…maybe he is dying…though I don't know how…I have no idea what they drugged him with…

And I think if my lungs give out…and they will…eventually…I know that…I want to be with Floyd. When that time comes…I want to be with him…not in some cold hospital…not with the sound of machinery…I want to be with Floyd…

And I know Hotch is out there somewhere…and I know he cares…and I know he wants me…but this…this is something he cant give me…I take a deep breath and feel the pains shooting through every inch of my body…from my brain to my toes…every part of me hurts...inside and out…and I smile…as the fingers I am gripping slowly grip back…and a hand touches the back of my head and strokes gently at my hair.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4 Escape

Chapter 4

Escape

* * *

I think I fell asleep because I didn't hear them arrive. The first I knew that they had come back was the sudden pain as someone grabbed my hair and pulled me away from Floyd. I flailed my arms and tried to reach out and grab hold of him but they were too fast for me….my reactions were too slow.

"Stop it!" I shout out…and my sudden call starts up the usual bout of coughing and hacking and the spinning in my head as I struggle to breathe. I try to look at Floyd but the way they are dragging me away doesn't allow for it.

I can hear amongst the noise in the room a scraping dragging sound and then the sound of the door slamming shut….and they leave me laying on the floor the other side of the bed. Again I try to look at Floyd but now I see that he has gone.

"Oh god…no." I push to my hands and knees and slowly crawl over to the door. Gradually the coughing has died back…but I know that isn't necessarily a good thing. I can feel that I'm not getting enough air into my body. I can feel it getting weaker…and as I put myself up at the door I can feel I am shaking and my thoughts are not coming to me quick and sharp like I know they should be. I feel tired and sluggish…and I try to open the door but it's now my weakened condition stopping me from opening it…someone has locked it from the other side.

"Please let me out." I mutter…and hit at the door with my fists... "Please – what have you done to him? Let me out!"

But it's not until I realise that I have split the skin on my knuckles that I know that they are not listening to me. Slowly I slide to the floor and sit with my back to the wall. It will be dark soon...yes I have been here in the dark before…but Floyd lights a lantern…he stays here with me. This time I have a dread that I will be left here alone.

Slowly I start to bang the back of my head on the door. "Please…please don't leave me here in the dark." I whisper to myself. I look around the room and my sights rest on the boarded over window on the other side of the room, and I wonder if I can possibly get out. Escape…get help.

I can hear shouting and laughing….and crying…and I wonder what they are doing to him. He is meant to be my protector and I need to help him…he wouldn't be here if not for me.

Managing to stand on shaking legs I move in small shuffling steps to the other side of the room….in a way it is good to get away from the door….I don't have to listen to what they are doing to Floyd…I don't have to imagine the images to go with the sounds. I put a hand out and brush my fingers along the rough wall and finally to the window boards. At first I just rest my hands on them…then I give them a gentle shove. I don't want to suddenly break them off not knowing what is on the other side. I have to think carefully…decide what I am going to do if I do manage to get them off the window frame.

I lean my head forward and feel the cold coarse surface against my skin. I swallow and make a decision. I will die if I stay here…I will probably die if I try to get help…but at least I will die free. I curl my fingers around one of the pieces of wood and pull…

It cracks…its crunches…it pulls away quite easily though….I place the plank of wood on the floor and look at what I have done…not much really. Again I grab hold of some wood and pull…it snaps off easily enough and I place this on the floor too…I want to hurl it across the room and scream and curse at it…but I take a shuddering breath and start on the next…the light outside is a dull grey…It's been raining at some point and I can smell the freshness of the rainwater on the grass.

Another comes away and I place that too gently down to the side….and the gap is getting bigger…But I know I have to be careful…I know I need to make the space big enough so I don't put too much strain on my chest….I wonder briefly if this is going to kill me…just getting out of the stupid window…I imagine these guys finding me stuck half way out of the gap with my face blue and my limbs stiff…With a shudder I pull the next off….then the next…and now I think I can do it…Looking carefully I can see that the grass grows right up against the side of the cottage…so with my back to the window I put my hands on the frame and push up so I am sitting…I hold my breath and slide out backwards onto my back the grass.

And I can hear now…suddenly I can hear…

Laughter and joking and cries of pain. It sounds like they are doing to Floyd that which he has been doing to me for the past week or so….I've lost track of how long it's been now, and for a few minutes I just lay there in the grass trying to work out how to move …and how to get Floyd out. Rolling to my front get up onto my knees and look over to where the line of trees starts….I have no idea which way to go…I don't know how we got here…I can't remember…It makes me so damned angry that these things – these decisions are coming so hard to me! I want to kick and throw things with a temper which is slowly building up as I kneel in my pyjamas and listen to Floyds odd noises of distress.

Hotch…I have to find Hotch. He will help me. I know he will help me.

Slowly I stand and get my balance by placing my hand on the outside wall of the room I had been held in for so long….then carefully I begin to walk to the nearest tree…I have no idea if it is the right direction, but it is away from here…so it cant be too wrong.

-o-o-o-

The pain is like something I've not experienced for a while….I've been in pain before but this is all encompassing and not helped by the vomiting. I'm one my front…on my knees and elbows and I am being held in place by these fuckers…by name and nature….they are doing to me what they did to Spence, and I wonder if he was in this much pain…I think he may have been….but this is different…this is me….and shit…this is not something I want to have to repeat.

It's like this…

My back…it feels like it's been broken…I don't seem to have too much feeling in my legs…or hips…I want to fight this and cant…I'm held fast by these blokes and their fists and other various body parts. My joints…I need to keep trying to move…It feels as though my bones are going to explode and I want to move…but I can't…I have to lay here and feel what I think at first is my joints swelling and popping and swelling and popping….I try to move my fingers and I can…I can do that…but they don't hurt so much….its my shoulders and elbows…and I think probably my knees and hips too…if I could…if I could feel properly below the hips.

My breathing…It hurt…though I don't think as much as Spencer's does…this I think I can bypass and cure…maybe…I don't know…though I have a good idea what they have done to me…I can feel it. I can feel they have opened me up like a bottle of fizzy pop…and I can hear the bubbles popping in my ears as the darkened room spins out of control and my stomach evacuates again…

My brain…bang bang bang pop ARH! Yes…I know what they did to me…and I can't metabolise this too easily…so I try to struggle away from them as then come at me with their genitalia and force their dirty bodies into mine and I vomit and my bladder empties and they laugh at me and as I wriggle and fight and pull my arse away from them I see another empty needle coming my way.

"Keep still you motherfucker."

They snarl at me. Then they push me onto my side and I suddenly can kick and thrash and life if seeping back into my limbs as someone presses the side of my face into the floor.

"Your little lover is next."

"Bastards." I try to say….but the words are just in my head and don't come out of my mouth…I just make a strange whimpering noise that I don't like the sound of and then I feel the thing jabbing into the side of my neck again and as quickly as I started to feel I was winning…I am laying still again…with that blood pouring from my nose and bubbling from both ears and it sounds like I am five hundred foot under water and playing with the mermen.

-o-o-o-

I don't know how long it has been….I don't know how many days I have been hauling my self through the forest but when I reach the road I want to cry with relief.

My fear was at first that they would come after me and find me and then the pain would be unthinkable…now though my fear is for what they are doing to Floyd in my absence. The only way to save him…I know is to get out though…I can't help him against those people.

I have rags covering my body now…I am barefoot and covered in blood and scratches and bruises….I have vomited so much blood that you would think I would be an empty sack of skin by now. I run my fingers through my hair and try to make my self look a bit more respectable…not an easy task though…I realise that….I have to walk…I have to carry on until I can find a car to stop or a house to go to…and I know…yes I know I am a mess and people are going to assume I am escaped mad man….and in a way I probably am.

A lot of my journey has been spent on my knees crawling. My balance isn't too good right now…I think it might be blood loss. The continual taste of blood in my mouth makes me think I am bleeding internally again…as the day or days or weeks or however long it has been since I left the hospital have gone by it seems to have gotten harder to breath…a tight band of something around my chest pressing down and now – now I think I need to get help soon...

I rest at the side of the road for a while …sitting on the grass verge. There are no cars…this is a quiet place…I wonder if I fall back to the ditch behind me how long I will lay there rotting before I am found…Probably in the summer…when the joggers and cyclist are out…they will smell that sweet smell of decomp and report it…They will have to identify me by dental records…bits of me gone forever eaten by the local wild life….the thought gets me onto my feet again and walking….and it is about an hour later that I hear a car. The low rumble in the back ground and I fear the bile of fear rise in my throat as I don't know who will be in the car…but I can't afford not to flag it down…

If it is wrong…if it is a mistake…then I am not really any worse off…but I cannot afford to let it go by without trying. Slowly I move to the middle of the small road and face the way it seems to be coming from…and there it is…I can see the afternoon sun shining off the glass and chrome…and I stand and wave my arms in an attempt to look commanding and needy and harmless all at the same time.

"Please stop." I say….and the driver obviously cannot hear me…but it slows down…and I move to the side of the road and the small red SUV pulls to a stop next to me. The driver is a male of about fifty…and I attempt to smile at him. "Thank you." I mouth at him…and he cracks open the window a tiny amount. "Thank you." I say again…and my voice sounds strange and rough…"I don't suppose you have a cell phone you can call someone on for me do you?" I wouldn't ask for a lift.

He nods and pulls a pair of glasses out of his pocket and a small pistol out from under his seat. He puts the glasses on and the pistol he rests on his lap. I sigh and nod at him acknowledging the weapon…letting him know I can see it…the phone is then taken from his pocket and he looks over at me.

"Number and message." He snaps at me.

So I give him the number….and then say… "Just tell him Reid would like him to come and pick him up." I shrug. "I don't know where I am." Then I stand back and listen.

"Hi…I've been stopped in the middle of nowhere by someone called Reid….he's asked me to call you and get you to come get him." I see he is listening to the reply…and then I hear him give directions. The snaps the phone shut and then looks at me. "He will be about an hour. Says to wait here."

And I nod and smile at him. "Thank you."

He shakes his head and the window closes up again…he bends down and I assume he is replacing the gun…and then the vehicle moves away. I am left standing at the side of the road as the light dims…So I move and crouch at the edge of the road again and wait.

-o-o-o-

My stomach is twisting in panic….Reid ….I am going to get him…how he is where he is I will find out when I get there…I just hope it is just him.

And there he is…

My god he looks like he is going to drop dead. I pull up next to him and he sits on the grass just looking at me. I get out and walk around the car towards him….he is alone…and it is dark…I can see dampness in his huge hazel eyes…and my heart breaks…

"Spencer." He doesn't move…but carries on just looking at me and so I crouch down next to him and reach out a hand and touch him carefully on the arm. "Come with me Spencer." And he seems to pull out of wherever his mind was resting and he blinks at me.

"Hotch. You have to help me." And he leans forwards slightly and rests his head on my arm. I in turn lean forward and wrap my arms around this emaciated form and I can smell the dirt and sweat on him…and I can hear the roughness of his breaths.

"I'm here now Spencer. Come on…get in the car…I will take you home." But he moves back away from me and slowly shakes his head.

"I need your help." And he coughs and spits up what looks like blood.

I reach out for him again. "I will help you Reid….come with me." I try to smile but the look on his face is making it difficult.

"NO!" and more coughing… "You don't understand…I need you to get Floyd for me."

I stand up and look down at him as he tries to get his breath and coughs and spits into the grass. "You know where he is?"

And he looks up at me…his face grey…his lips lacking colour and he nods slowly. "I know where he is I think…Not exactly." More coughing. "He is in danger Hotch…you have to help him."

"So where is he?" I take a couple of steps back towards my SUV... "Is he alone?" And I watch Reid shake his head.

"We were – were….he is still there…You have to help him Hotch." And I find I am shaking my head.

"You are out of your mind Reid. You asked me out here to help you save Floyd?"

And he is nodding. "You have no idea what they are doing to him."

"I have a good idea…he probably is only getting what he is happy to deliver." I watch as Spencer struggles to his feet and stands swaying…

"I love him Hotch."

And I want to shake some sense into him…I want to hold him and care for him and show him what love really is…its not continual abuse…it's not anything Flanders can offer…I want to give him the care and attention he needs, but he wont let me.

I turn back to the car and I want to kick and punch it…and let out my frustrations on it! I want to just get back in the car and drive off…but a hand on my back stops me.

"Hotch please. They will kill him…they might already have…please help me…I can't do this alone."

So I turn to face him "He raped me Spencer." And I look at his face and his expression doesn't change.

"Please Hotch – Aaron…"

"Did you hear me? Reid he nearly killed me and you want me to launch a rescue attempt and save him?"

And he nods. "For me…not for him. I'm begging you Hotch…please help him."

I can feel I am shaking my head. "I can't! I can't Reid….not…not and then let him go…I will have to take him in…I will have to take him back…he will have to pay for what he did to me and to the nurse at the hospital."

And I watch Spencer nod.

"Just please Hotch…give him a chance."

And I am looking into those huge damp sad eyes and I am finding myself nodding. "As long as you are understand what I will have to do."

And he gives me one of his tight smiles. "Thank you."

* * *


	5. Chapter 5 Accusation

Chapter 5

Accusation

* * *

I get in the car and with shaking hands I pull the restraint across me and clip it into place. Hotch is just sitting on the drivers side looking at me. He looks like he is thinking…but as always his expression is unreadable.

He also pulls his own strap across and secures it and when I turn and look out of the front window he starts up the engine and we move off.

I turn slightly in the seat and look behind me. "We need to go the other way."

Then I hear the click of the door being locked – but Hotch ignores my words.

"I am taking you to hospital." Is what he says.

"Please Hotch…you said you would help." I look at the speed the countryside is whipping by and with each second we are distancing ourselves from Floyd.

"This is helping."

I look at him and I can see the strain on his profile and the way this knuckles are white on the steering wheel. "I need to get Floyd. Please Hotch."

And he doesn't respond this time.

Sitting comfortably in this SUV is wonderful but I know I need to get out…I need to help Floyd. "Hotch – let me out."

"I'm taking you to the hospital Spencer. I need you checked out properly…and then we will talk about this Flanders thing. Look at yourself Reid. Look what he has done to you." I am watching Aaron closely now and I see him glance over at me. "You really have no idea how worried I have been have you?"

And I quickly look away from him again. I try to pull back into my memory the pain I was going through when it was just Floyd and I…but my head is spinning … "They will kill him."

"He nearly killed me Reid."

"Hotch…you said you would help!"

"And I will…I will go and look for him Spencer…but I am getting you sorted out first."

I rest my head against the head rest and can feel tears of frustration in my eyes.

"I trusted you Hotch." I say…feeling spiteful…

And he responds with. "And I loved you."

I know he did…in that soft gentle way…a way I am not used to…that's not what excites me. I sigh and close my eyes. "I know." I reply to him in a voice which can hardly be heard over the purring of the car engine.

-o-o-o-

When I wake up I realise they have moved me…and my first thought is for my own skin. They have been playing games with me again…I can feel the tingling in my lower body…I can feel the pain sparking in my joins….and as I move I start to cough and attempt to get rid of the blockages in my lungs…but something is stopping me from moving too far….

Again I am gagged…and my hands are tied to my belt behind my back.

And so this is how I am as they pull at my clothes and debase me with their vile body parts….

They piss on me…they ejaculate on me…and then when they leave me alone for what feels like hours….I'm not sure though…I cant see still…the flashing lights popping up in my vision and the sounds muffled like I am underwater…and my head…the pain in my brain as the air bubbles appear and travel and block and ……………….

…………………and I think I have seizures……….it feels like I have been……my muscles hurt so much….my head where I have felt the pressure of someone's foot pressing my face into the wooden flooring.

The kicking starts a few hours later….They come running over to me and they are shouting something but it's making no sense to me at all…I just blink at them…as I am still gagged and cant talk even if I wanted to….Something about someone…being gone…??

Spencer has gone?

He got away?

The bastard ran off and left me to these monsters.

And they decide to punish me for his little indiscretion. They move me so I am laying on my front and pull my shirt up out of the way of my back. At first I don't realise what it is they are doing…then I feel it…something sharp being pressed against my spine… And I try to get away…this is going to hurt like a pig…I know it is…and I writhe and wriggle and they hold me down easily and the pain as the air is injected into my spine is there only fleetingly….I try to cut it off…I try to stop the damage and partially I am ok….but its not completely successful. And the pain is excruciating…and I will remember this…one day when I feel like hurting someone…probably Hotchner…I will remember this.

-o-o-o-

When I pull up outside the hospital Spencer lets out a long sigh. "I will go in. I will get treated…but will you find Floyd for me?"

I look over at him and instinctively there are two very different things I want to do to him. I want to kiss that battered damaged mouth better….and I want to shake him and tell him to forget about Flanders…I do neither.

"I will need a location Spencer….and permission to use resources for the retrieval." And he nods at me.'

"Get me a map… I will try to show you. It was the grounds of an old burnt down house in the middle of the forest."

I nod at him…only half listening to his words. "Let's get you sorted first and I will talk to the team about Flanders."

I watch Spencer lift his hand and scratch at his neck. "I'm sorry if he hurt you Aaron. Really I am…but no one deserves what they are doing to him."

That's comment was debatable…but I don't want to start an argument with Reid. He needs to be medicated and kept safe for now….I will go back and find Flanders when I have time…But I will…I will go and look for him. And I know I am going to be procrastinating. I know I will find any excuse not to go and look for him…and I don't like it…I don't like the way the man has made me feel…I don't like that I hope we are too late.

I want them to keep him in…I don't want Spencer to think for one minute that I am going to permit him to come looking for Flanders. Not only is he off the team right now…but I don't want him there to see my face if we are too late to get Floyd out of whatever situation he has got himself into. I don't want him to see me glad that he is either dead…or that we have to kill him to get him to come with us…this isn't a feeling I am happy with. I am not comfortable thinking this way about another person…but I still feel the tightness on my skin from where he tortured me. I am not going to let him get away with it. I wont let him walk away. I will be pressing charges and I will hope that Spencer will too.

He wont listen to me…but maybe to a professional…someone I get to talk to him…to counsel him…to advise him…to show him that this life he has been living is destructive…To guide him towards the kind of comfort I can provide…not the type of comfort Flanders provides… fear.

Reid is given a room and I arrange the room to be guarded. After last time I don't want accidents and/or mistakes…I need Spencer kept safe….and I need him kept medicated and here.

It is helpful being in the position I am in. I am able to pull strings and I am able to call in a few favours.

So when I talk to the doctor I am happy that I can persuade him to keep Spencer in his room until I tell him it is safe to let him go.

"It really isn't ethical what you are asking me to do." The doctor is complaining.

"It is the only way to keep him safe." I am pacing the doctors room.

"But to keep him sedated…I don't know Hotch….I don't like it."

"I would get him put in a psychiatric unit but I don't think he is well enough."

And the doctor is slowly shaking his head. "I will do what I can do….but I cant force him to stay here."

Why is it so hard to keep someone safe?

-o-o-o-

They have extended their games now….I am blind folded and gagged and laying on a wooden floor. I can feel the grain of the wood on the side of my face.

There is noise going on….but I cant work out what it is…

Distorted shouting….and bangs…

…………….gun fire?

Someone has a gun? Who are they shooting……?

Then the vibrations of someone or maybe more than one person running across the floor….and I brace myself expecting a kick…but it doesn't happen…more shouting sounds….and then I feel it….cold and hard pressed against the side of my face….

And you know what it sounds like when you suddenly dive into deep water….how the sound shuts off and is just wrong? Well it sounds like that….snatches…tiny bits of words maybe….but nothing really….

I do know…I can tell that there is a gun being pressed to the side of my face. I want to fight my way out….I want to bite and scratch and kick and rend and tear and mutilate…but I cant…all I can do is lay there and feel the weapon pressing against my face.

And slowly the pressure lightens….slowly I feel less threatened by it…he would have killed me by now if that was his intention…for a minute the pressure returns…then it's gone…and as soon as it is gone I am trying to get away…but I cant….I cant move.

A hand on my shoulder and words….but still I cant hear what is being said…

The ties holding my hands back are released…the gag is removed…the ties on my feet are undone….my eyes are allowed to see again….though still the flashing of colour…now it is not quite as bad….and as I roll over I can see Hotchner.

Fuck.

That really is all I need right now.

Hands are touching me…inspecting me for damage…and I don't like it….I don't like Hotchner being here…This is no good…this is bad.

I am given water to drink….my eyes are wiped with a cloth….they must see I keep rubbing at them…they are asking me to stand up I think…but I cant…

Shit….

I need a get out of jail free card…now.

"Did y you f f find him?" I know my voice sounds odd….and my words are stuttered and slurred.

"Reid? He is safe." Hotchner's voice narks me…it's an irritant to me. He is looking smug and I don't like it…I don't like that I am here and Spencer is safe…I don't like the situation I have been put in.

And suddenly the shitty situation gets worse….I am read my rights…they read the Miranda out to me…and I am not Fucking Happy About It!

For assault on Hotchner and for killing the stupid nurse….and one of those things I can do nothing about…

"Fucking load of shit!" I mumble as they drag me to my feet….I think I pissed myself again….its a side effect of the air bubbles in my blood. "I didn't kill the nurse…Spencer did."

I am a liar….but why take it all when I can share it?

And he may not have been the one who did it….but he didn't stop me….he didn't try to get her help…he is as guilty as I am on that one…on quite a lot of them.

"He knows what I am! He hides it from you to protect me…He enables me." And I smirk at Hotchner while I see the colour drain from his face and the other police he is with listen to my accusations…and some of them are true... "He is happy to eat human flesh." I spit out…. That is a lie…. I've never told him what is in the chilli…but then he's never asked…. And if I am going down….I am going to drag that filth down with me….

Where the hell is he now?

My legs give way under me again and I can feel the little bit of focus I did have drifting away again as I am lifted and carried out of the area by some big strong guy who holds my arse a bit tighter than is necessary.

* * *

**A/N: SLIGHTLY SHORTER THAN NORMAL….BUT I AM WAY TIRED AND NEED TO POST!!**

**Pb**

**tin**

**XOX**


	6. Chapter 6 Blood

Chapter 6

Blood

* * *

They are asking me questions and I don't know how to answer them…

I have asked to see Hotch but they won't let me. I have told them I want to see a lawyer…but they tell me I'm not under arrest…they just want to know if what Flanders said was true.

But I don't know what he has said.

I fiddle with my fingers and keep looking down at my lap. "I want to talk to Hotchner." I tell them…but it gets no result.

"This is just about you Reid….not Hotchner…I just want you to tell me…How long has Flanders been part of your life?"

but I shake my head… "What had that got to do with anything?"

"I want to know how long you have been covering for him."

I inspect a bit of dust on the table and then look up at the man with all the questions. "You are a doctor?" I ask him…and he nods. "So anything I say to you is in confidence?"

"To a point." He tells me.

"I've known Flanders since I was a child." I prod the bit of dust on the table. "We've had times where we are close and other times where we drift apart a bit."

The doctor is nodding at me and making notes. "And so you are aware of what he is?"

"What he is?"

"He has an emotional hold over you…You are aware of what he does…you cannot possibly not have seen it…you are a profiler…I don't believe that you didn't see it…you didn't know."

I shake my head. "I'm sorry…I don't know what you are talking about."

"All the rapes and murders Spencer."

And I shake my head again. "I'm sorry…I don't know what you are talking about." But I do…I rub furiously at my nose and then look up at him… "Really I don't know what you mean."

"Flanders had made a deal…I don't think it wrong to inform you of this…It might help you to think. He has told how you will clear his bloody mess up for him…destroy evidence…That you will happily strip him…let me quote it for you…. _'Strip me of my bloody clothes then kneel and blow me with the victim's blood still sticking to me.' _End of quote."

And he is looking at me and I am having flashbacks of those times…when he will come in short of breath and needing me. When he will be sticky with someone else's blood and I will want to ask where it all came from…And I will want to know what he has been doing…but the questions are too hard to ask…and there is that smell…that – thing – I cant explain…and I stop worrying about where all the blood came from and I just want to make him happy. I think of all the times I take bloodied clothing to the laundry in the basement and sit and wait for them not wanting to leave them there in case someone finds them.

I rub at my eyes and then look at the doctor. "I don't know what you are talking about."

And I am lying…and it makes me so cross…Floyd is doing this and I don't know why…what small little switch clicked on in his brain to do this. I bite on my bottom lip and know that whatever I say I am in trouble….I am in deep trouble.

"The nurse…did you kill the nurse Spencer?"

He is using my first name. I glance up and look at him. "No."

"There is no evidence that Flanders was ever in that room you know."

And I shake my head. "I didn't do it."

"Do you know who did?"

and I shake my head…and then I bite harder on my lip and I can taste blood.

-o-o-o-

"We will move him…Somewhere safe."

I nod and stand still for a while with my eyes closed. "You can help him?"

And I look at him to see him slowly shaking his head. "There is a lot of damage Aaron…I don't know…it's very deeply embedded. I am hoping now Flanders has no influence over him that he will be able to sort his mind out. He was very obviously lying to me and he knew – he knew that I was seeing right through those lies."

I start to pace again. "I just need you to tell me there is hope…that you can undo the damage."

"I will try…we all will do our best Aaron…but he will have to be charged…If you want me to help him…he will have to be accused of the crimes…He is not aware I don't think of the depth of the trouble he is in."

"Charged with what?"

-o-o-o-

No bail.

They are sending me to remand…again…not for the first time…not the first time I have done time. The prospect does not scare me…nor does it make me happy. I can cope…I don't mind too much. It gives me time to think…and it gives me people. Other prisoners…the guards…they all become part of my plan.

No bail means that they are pretty pissed off with me. It's the Hotchner crap they keep harping on about…and they found stuff at the apartment. Now that may have been a bit short sighted of me…I didn't go back and get rid of the steaks and mince from the freezer…nor did I rid said freezer of the chilli…HAHA!

"What are you smirking about?"

The guard sitting in the back of the transportation van.

"Just imagining you on my dinner plate." And I lick my lips.

Sometimes I should keep my mouth shut…Sometimes…but not now.

"Wondering what it will be like to screw the screw." And I do my best tooth filled smile at him. "Usually they find me quite an interesting fuck. Will you want me to talk dirty to you…or just squeeze your nipples and lick?"

And he tells me to shut my mouth….and I look at him still and smile and say. "Braised in onion with garlic."

"Pardon?"

"That's how I was thinking of cooking you…if I bother…might just rip bits off you raw."

When the van pulls up at the prison I am going to be spending a small amount of time in I am a bleeding lump on the floor. You can only kick a man so many times before he either laughs or pretends he is out….I pretend…I don't want him kicking harder then necessary. I mark him though…I will have him…after I've had Hotchner.

They drag me off the floor and take me through the process of booking me in and stripping me out of my clothes….I let them…let me enjoy the view….its the best arse they will ever get to see…unless they ever see Spence…Cos that is one lovely…wonderful…backside. I close my eyes thinking about it and I want to relieve some of the tension building up, but I wait. I am still shackled when they push me under the warm shower water.

"Get clean." They tell me.

"Screw me." I tell them.

They lead me now in my orange prison kit down the passage way. The cells here have bars as the third wall…no privacy…no door…to shut me behind. They will be watching me. The shackles are removed and I am pushed into my room…I get my own room. That's a bitch…I was rather banking on an arse to keep me warm at night. I stand and watch the door being locked and they then look me up and down.

"I'm surprised."

"Not as surprised as me." I respond.

"What are you talking about?" he asks.

So I shrug. "You first."

"I'm just surprised that someone as small and effete looking can be as dangerous as they say."

And I nod. "Funny that….I was thinking…I know you from somewhere…then it comes to me." And I tap the side of my head with my finger. "I fucked your father and raped your mother's corpse."

He would have come back in and he would have probably tried to kill me for that.

"You are Gordon Phelps aren't you?" I ask…and I know it is… "Your mum – that was sad…had to wait to be dead to get a good fuck…and your father…well…he begged…he begged so hard for me not to have him…but damn, yep – he was good." I scratch my ear and smile. "Your kid brother though." And I lick my lips.

The cell is not the most homely of places I have ever spent my time….I can see right across the way to the guy on the other side….he is standing there…big and very dark…and shiny and…well yeah…just big…all over big…like the big bloke in The Green Mile sort of big. Gargantuan.

I don't want to draw his attention to me so I turn and look at my bed. Wonderful. Paper sheets again.

I sit down and swipe my hand over my top lip where blood is beginning to collect from its journey from my nose…I get a lot of this crap going on recently….that and my hips and my knees and shoulders hurt…and the kicking didn't help…

How long do I sit here for? Who knows…time doesn't mean a whole lot in a place like this…but I can hear clanking sounds and food is being delivered. Looks like we are not allowed out of our cells to eat…so when my name is called.

"Hey you." Well not actually my name….I look up and my eyes lock and I reply with.

"Oh fuck."

And he says. "Well they finally got you again huh?"

And I say. "Shut the fuck up shit wad."

And he says. "Now now Frankie…that's not the way to talk to an old friend."

-o-o-o-

"What is this place?"

I am standing looking at the room they have given me and I turn and look at Hotch. He doesn't look happy.

"Somewhere for you to rest and get your life back Spencer."

I nod and turn and look at the room again. "And you are assuming that this is what I want?"

"It is what you need." I feel a hand rest lightly on my shoulder. "Spencer it was this or jail." And I take a step forward so that the hand is no longer in contact with me.

"Thank you." Then I turn. "So you think a psychiatric facility is better for me?"

He nods. "Yes. You will get the help you need here."

This makes me so cross…I don't need help. I don't need his help. "Where is Floyd?" I watch the frown lines appear then quickly go again on his face.

"He is gone…that is all you have to worry about."

I've had it…I really have had it with this cloak and dagger performance. "I would rather be in jail."

And he nods at me. "That is why you are here."

So I am pacing now….but avoiding actually going into the room. "You can't keep me here."

"Yes – Spencer it is one of the conditions. You will stay here." He is watching my every move. "This place is secure. You can't leave. You will be monitored. You will be helped."

I stand and look at the wall and raise my hands pressing my palms against the wall at shoulder height. "And when I am deemed better? Then what? Trial and jail?" And I feel the hand on my shoulder again. "Don't touch me!" I spin and look at him. "Just go…leave me alone."

"I am trying to help you Spencer." And his voice is soft and full of sadness.

"I don't need or want your help Aaron. I never have. It is not you I want or need and you have seen to it that I can't have what I need." I start to walk to my room. "So just go and don't bother coming back. I won't want to talk to you."

"Reid….Spencer…"

"You knew…you know this is the one thing which scares me the most Aaron…being somewhere like this…and yet you have done everything in your power to make sure this is where I end up. You took from me all I ever wanted and loved and then threw me in this place."

I don't feel his hand on me again…but I hear the sound of his feet as he turns to leave. I move so I can see him and I call after him… "Hotch…you promised me. You said you would get Floyd for me." I see the way he stiffens slightly…and then he carries on walking away. There is a buzzing sound as he approaches the barred exit and he is gone…he doesn't look back…he doesn't say goodbye….and I'm glad.

Now I walk into my room. There is a bed…and that is all…no window…no cabinet…no doors except for the one I just walked through.

"Here." A voice behind me. I turn to see a guy in a uniform of sorts. He is holding out a bit of paper. "Your time table. Can you read?"

"Yes." And I reach out for it.

"Then make sure you do." He lets me take it and then backs off and walks away. "Down here to the right…fifteen minutes….lunch." and he turns and is gone. I put the list on my bed and then sit down next to it.

-o-o-o-

I know I have to get out of this place….and I have to do it quickly…I don't have time to go through the process I would normally…I just have to get my arse out of this place quicker than they can blink…so I start my campaign. I start by standing with my back to the wall and smacking my head slowly on the wall. I need blood…I need to get as much of my blood everywhere as I can as quickly as I can. I look down at my arms and over at the bloke in the cell across the way….he is watching me…which is good…I want him to see this….I want him to remember this.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" I shout out to him…and shake my head making blood fly across the room in a beautiful crimson arc….

I keep going with my head until I can feel blood running down the back of my neck…and then I move forwards.

"You're still looking at me." I snarl at him and he just watches me in silence as I put my hands around the bars and start with the front of my head….at first small little bumps and I make it harder and harder until I feel the skin split across my forehead…and the blood is running good now…

"What the fuck?" The big dark voice says….

And I look up at him and blink away the blood and look at my arms again.

I am rather banking on this guy calling for help…cos I don't think I will be able to…so I put my wrist to my mouth and lick at the skin at first…then I look up and lock eyes with Jimbo over there and rip into my wrist with my teeth…The blood squirts and hits the back of my throat and I take it away and stare at it for a while then turn it to show the big dude.

The blood loss is extensive and uber fast. I feel the world begin to spin and as my knees smack to the floor I place my other wrist to my mouth and take a nice big bite.

Then all I can hear is noise…and all I can see is darkness….and shouting…and lights…and then nothing.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7 The Counsellor

Chapter 7

The Counsellor

* * *

They want to talk to me again. Always talking to me. Asking me questions I can't or won't answer. I'm not going to implicate Floyd, or myself…and I know he hurt Hotch and I'm sorry he was in pain but I wasn't there…I cant say why or wherefores…I don't know the answers.

A cocktail of medication. The first day I refused them…they showed me though how they can and will force me to take my meds…and they held me down and suck needles in me and then left me laying on my bed as the drugs too effect.

At least if I take the pills I can attempt to hide them…not to take them…to spit them out later.

Not always successful…but often enough for me to be able to keep my head straight.

So day four…I am eating my evening meal. A square of ham…some creamed potatoes…and some peas. I have a plastic fork. The square of ham is easy to slice through with the side of the fork…I have probably two maybe three mouthfuls before three orderlies come to get me.

"I'm still eating." I tell them.

"Not our problem." They tell me

And they take my arms and lead me down the passage towards the rooms where you go for to talk… "What's the hurry?" They are moving with me so fast that my feet hardly touch the ground. "Hey slow down." But they don't listen. This is the thing about this place…they expect you to talk but they never listen.

They take me to a room. A room with a table fixed to the floor and a chair fixed to the floor either side of it…more of an interrogation room and they let go of me and tell me to take a seat and behave. I want to know what is going on….but just as I am about to ask someone else walks into the room and sits down on the chair the other side of the table.

I look up at him and nod. "Hey." Is all I say to Hotch. He isn't wearing his 'I am happy to see you face.' So I don't show mine either.

"We need to talk." He says to me… No greeting…no 'how are they treating you?' straight in with the questions. I put my hands on the surface of the table and look at them hard but I don't respond to the statement. There is no need to really.

"Reid. This is very important and I need to know that you are listening to me."

"I'm listening." I give him a quick glance but carefully avoid eye contact. I don't want him seeing into my soul. I'm not sure what is there lurking waiting for him to see.

"Flanders has escaped."

"How?" I keep my voice low.

"We need to know where he is Spencer." A cold almost icy voice is coming from Hotch now.

I scratch at my face with my fingernails and look up over Hotch's shoulder. "Why are you telling me?" Pushing hair behind my ears.

"He will try to contact you."

"Hotch…That is very unlikely." Fingernail inspection… "He assisted in putting me here. He has moved on. He won't be back." I try to sound sure of myself…I try to make it sound like I know what I am talking about…but the drugs slur my voice and make my hands shake. I don't come across as confident as I would like.

"How did he escape? Wasn't he in some high security facility?"

I watch Hotch push his hair back off his face where it is sticking to the sweat appearing on his brow….he looks worried. "The details are not important. You however report anything unusual. He has to be brought back and justice has to be dealt Spencer. You do understand that don't you?"

"Of course I understand. I am a genius. Hotch…I understand perfectly what you are saying, but he wont come here." I move to stand but a hand comes down upon my shoulder and pushes me back down again. "I can arrange to have you moved somewhere more comfortable maybe. But I do need you to talk."

I stay sitting now but look at a place on the wall. "I've nothing to say to you."

"Spencer…." A hand moves now and it rests over the top of mine…I look down at it and sigh.

"Aaron…He hasn't been here. How can he? It's not possible for him to contact me. You are my only contact with the outside world…and that is very sparse." The hand takes mine and turns it over. A finger runs down the length of my hand from wrist to the tip of my index finger.

"I miss you." The words are so quiet I can hardly hear them. I don't know how to answer him. I slowly pull my hand away from him and put them both in my lap. I keep my head down and then I close my eyes.

"You miss what you thought I was Aaron. The real me…this is the real me…the one you had locked away."

"They will be able to help you if you let them."

So I nod. I don't want to talk to him. I don't want him touching me. He only came here to get information.

"I needed you as a friend." I whisper into my lap.

"I am your friend Spencer." His voice always so soft even when he is angry.

"No Hotch…you're not. You don't believe me. You don't trust me. You had me locked away." I can feel the air is getting hot and there is sweat running down the side of my face.

"I'm trying to help you." His voice a bit louder now.

"Help me?" So I look at him…I look at him in the eyes….I let him see my pain. "This is help? I can do without your friendship and help." And I stand up again.

-o-o-o-

I wanted to see he was alright. I needed to know that he was safe. I am trying to keep him safe! I wasn't expecting this and I should have been…I sent him here…he is here because I arranged it…and I should have realised how angry he would be. I should have seen it coming before it did.

The way he looked at me. Directly. So I could see right down into his despair. What have I done?

He shouts and stands and I stand and try to calm him down, but I've never seen him like this…I've never seen this much fury in him…or maybe once…maybe that time – that other time I hurt him.

"Spencer."

I say through tight lips…The orderlies are shouting now too… "Sit your ass back down!" and he is turning and shouting at them also….I back off…I don't want him to think I had a part of this….They pull his arms behind his back and push him forwards now leaning over the table…I watch as they secure his hands….and he is shouting…

"Get the hell off me!" And he is trying to get away from them…and I back off further…I don't want me being here to be a part of this…It is making me feel sick…I want to help him…but there is nothing I can do.

"Is this necessary?" I ask – but either I am ignored or they just don't hear me over the shouting and howling…I watch the needles being stuck into this thigh…I watch them pull him back off the table and drag him from the room. "Was that necessary?" And someone turns to look at me.

"He is a dangerous criminal sir. He gets no special treatment because of what he once was." And I walk to the door and watch as they half drag and half carry Spencer away and through a door at the end.

"A dangerous criminal." I say to myself and sigh.

-o-o-o-

It really couldn't have worked out much better.

They took me to the hospital…they had to do that…they couldn't let their star cannibal die cos he ate himself….and it was a very large mistake they made…the final mistake for the poor blokes on guard duty…though…yes…I have to admit I am full up now…I wont have to eat again for a while now…you can sleep safely in your beds tonight…well safe in the knowledge I wont eat you…I might have other games to play though.

I'm sitting against a tree and I've been doing thinking you see….I do think a lot on occasion.

This occasion is that I need Spence. I have been without for too long. And I know where he is…I sniffed him out easily enough. So now I am in planning phase one. How to get myself into a top security facility for the criminally insane…

Oh OK…I can get in there easily enough…but didn't actually mean as a prisoner…guest, whatever it is they call them in there…I want to be night staff…I need to be able to prowl the corridors at night without the worry of being stopped.

This is going to take planning….I need narcotics for a start…mushrooms….and so this is what I have in my hand…I want to just nibble on them…but I mustn't do that…I need them for my manipulation and he is going to be so stoked to see me again. I just know he is…

I pull out a bit of paper from my pocket…it has my handwriting all over it. Neatly written it is too.

'_You will let me in. You are expecting me. You will not ask questions. You will not record this anywhere. You will give me full security clearance._

It is actually much longer than that…the paper has the message written over it hundreds of times…and up in the corner is a hand drawn cartoon happy face of me. Beautiful me.

Slowly I start the process of the final preparation of the letter of introduction. I wipe the mushrooms carefully over the paper…I smile as the whiteness goes a greyish yellowing colour. I then fold it carefully and place it in an envelope. There is no writing on the outside.

I then take a tiny glass tube from my pocket…the sort you might get coke or heroin in you know? It has a thing to clip it to my key ring. I unscrew the lid and tip the contents into the envelope. "Better safe than sorry." I say happily to myself….

I have tarted myself up for the occasion. A few lifted wallets…and a few stores later and here I am…fully wonderful and resplendent.

I got me a pair of black Versace jeans cos they are just the one which fit the best…and look the best. I got deep red waistcoat thing. Double breasted…golden buttons…and I got a black suit jacket in a very light almost but not quite velvet….They shirt is my usual…white…collarless…and with a length of grey fabric tied around my neck…I don't go in for fashion…you might have realised that by now. I go for what I know makes Spencer hard.

That makes me happy. Seeing him happy. I've washed my hair and it's in choppy layers from where they hacked into my brain…I've tied it back with a small gold colour elastic tie thing. I have on a pair of lace up boots.

I feel fucking great. I know I look awesome.

I am going on a date. HAHA!

A date to a loony bin to see my insane murdering lover…and the thought makes my stomach turn with excitement.

-o-o-o-

When I open my eyes I can see the white ceiling of some room somewhere…I try to move and realise I am strapped down…my wrists…my ankles…and more straps going across my chest and abdomen and down my legs holding me securely in place.

Thanks for this…

"Thank you." I mutter to myself. I look carefully around myself and see I am in what appears to be a square white room…From the way I am laying I cant see if there is a window….but I can see the door. My eyes itch like crazy and I want to put my hands up and rub and rub at them but I cant…The best I can do is keep blinking to try to keep the horrible feeling away. I have no clue how long I have been laying here when the door finally opens and a familiar face starts talking to me.

"Calmed down now have you?"

"I was calm before." I snap back.

He just nods at me. "I have advised that you receive no more visitors until your medication is correctly balanced."

"Fine." I turn and don't look at him.

"There is someone here to talk to you though. He is a counsellor and I think he might be able to help you if you let him."

"Fine." I say again. I'm not really feeling very communicative today.

"I'm going to undo the straps but if you start again your chat will be cancelled."

"Fine – just undo them and let me go."

The does the ankle straps first…then works his way up until only my arms are held down…He then calls out for someone else. Some regulation involving dangerous guests I suspect.

With one holding a black club of sorts and the other doing the straps they release me and help me to sit. My head spins and the room starts to go grey as hands hold me and the voices which were clear…fade…then come back again. "Let me know when you are ready to try to stand." I am told.

And so I nod. "I'm ready." And slowly slide my legs off the side of the bed. One set of arms holding me upright the other person walks behind us out of the room. "Wait." I breathe out…It's more of a sigh than words.

"What's wrong?" A prodding on my lower back.

"Just feeling light headed." My words sound slurred….I sound drunk….or drugged.

"You'll get used to that feeling boy…now get walking…people don't like to be kept waiting."

"OK." I say and slowly carry on again. I really am growing he detest hospital wear you know….how many times have I been put in dark blue hospital pyjamas? I would so love my own clothes back…but I don't feel like asking right now.

I'm taken to a room very much like the one I had been in with Hotch…but it's not the same…the walls here are pale green. That is meant to be relaxing. It seems to be working. They escort me to a chair and push me down to sit.

"If you cause trouble we will strap you down again. You choose."

I nod at the voice and close my eyes. My arms I cross on the table in front of me and I rest my head on my bare flesh. I hear them walk away then I hear the door open…muffled voices…and then door closes again. I don't look up…as I said, I'm not in the mood for talking.

"Hey." The voice says…but I ignore it. "Babes."

And I squeeze my eyes shut because now I am hallucinating…Floyd can't be here. He just can't…they are looking for him. They wouldn't let him in here with me. I feel a hand gently touch the top of my head. "Babes?" And slowly I look up…and there looking right back at me…he is there.

"F….." I start to say his name but a finger reaches over and he places it gently on my lips.

"Ssshhh." And he smiles and raises his eyebrows. "I'm counsellor Fennik. I'm here to talk to you….and when we get the chance I am going to fuck you senseless… to do this and not get caught you need to do exactly what I say."

I nod and feel his hands touching me…running down my arms…gently dabbing at my fingers with his…and never once taking his eyes off me.

"You forgive me don't you?"

And I nod

"I will get you out of here….but you know…sometimes you piss me off."

And I can smell that smell…the one which isn't aftershave…and isn't his sweat….but is that special scent…that heavy musky smell…and I would do him there…if he let me…. "They are watching us.

And he nods… "I know…so we have to give them a reason to trust us. Don't blow it Spence. Well at least not until I get you naked in the shower."

* * *


	8. Chapter 8 Another Visit

Chapter 8

Another Visit.

**A/N SMALL AMOUNT OF SLASH ALERT!!**

* * *

"I'm sorry sir but Dr Reid isn't allowed visitors." I stand with my arms crossed and frown at the man in his white uniform standing by the doors I need to get through.

"Since when?" I ask. I need to see him…I have to know that he is alright.

"I think it is special orders sir. Until he has learned to behave."

"Excuse me? Behave? What the hell is going on?" I want to just push the man out of the way and get through the sealed doors but I don't think that would be the right course of action right now. "Can you please get me his doctor? I need to know what is going on here and who made the orders of no visitation."

The guy moves away from the door and clicks the keys on the computer. "It was his counsellor."

I am pacing now. "And the orders are what exactly?"

He looks up at me and pulls a face. "Well it says here that Agent Hotchner is not allowed access to Dr Reid." He frowns and reads something off the screen. "You have been causing him unwarranted distress…and the counsellor says that you are upsetting the healing process."

I rub at my eyes with the heels of my hands and then look at this man who is refusing a federal agent access to what he needs. "Can I talk to his counsellor then?"

The guy nods. "I will leave a note for him sir."

"And is it just me who is being refused access?"

I watch as he flicks off the monitor and scratches at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry I'm not able to give you that information. You need to remember that these people are not in rehab…this is an incarceration."

I am pacing again. "I understand."

"And you need a pass."

I stop pacing and turn to face again. "A pass?"

"Yes…it's not a holiday camp."

I nod and push my hair off my forehead. "Then leave a note please…I need to talk to Dr Reid's counsellor and to his doctor."

"I will be sure to let them know."

And he is standing back by the door again with his arms crossed.

There really isn't much I can do about this….I'm not here on official business…I don't have a warrant or a pass…I am here as a friend…and it they say I cant see him…then I cant…I will go and get a pass somehow…I look at the guy at the door again and nod…

"I'll be back." And he smiles and nods…

"Have a nice day." He says.

But I don't think that is very likely.

-o-o-o-

I hate this place. I really do hate it.

I don't like the food.

I don't like having to hide my meds…

But I think they know…I think they have started drugging the food and so I wont be eating it again until am sure. My head feels wrong…light headed and swimmy…My eyes wont focus properly and I am so tired the whole time. My only happy thoughts are that Floyd will be back…and next time for longer. I want my own clothes but they've said 'no'. That I don't behave…that personal items are part of the

…..of the…..

I cant think…

I have no personal items though. I am still in the damned pyjamas….and I've told them I'm not happy about it…and my words are slurred and drunk…and my walking is crooked and I bounce off the walls…and people give me that 'don't go near him' look….and that is fine with me.

"Keep away from me." I slur….that I can do…

"Spencer."

Someone is calling my name but I don't want to talk to anyone today…I was meant to be in group therapy about ten minutes ago…they let you find your own way there but if you miss …or keep missing…they come to get you, and I guess that is what they are doing now.

"Spencer!"…

Danm…I'm moving too fast…and hitting the wall of the passage way again… This is fine though…they get out of my way.

A hand on my shoulder. "Spencer." And I stop and slowly with one hand to balance me upon a rail along the edge of the wall I turn.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Did you hear me calling you?"

"Yes." I reply.

"I see…well you need to come with me. You have a visitor."

"My counsellor?" I get excited at the thought.

"No. A friend. You will have to be restrained."

And I frown. "Why?"

"Because it is what I have been told to do by Fennik. We don't want you hurting anyone."

"Fennik told you to restrain me?"

And he nods and takes me by the arm. "The green room Spencer." He says and leads me back the way I've just come from.

"Are you sure he said that?" But I don't get an answer and I wonder if I said it or if it was in my head again….I find a lot of things are just in my head these days…however many days it might be…I don't know that anymore either…days…weeks…months…I have no idea. So I am taken to the green room and told to sit. My feet are then held together at the ankles and my hands are cuffed and attached to a ring under the table. I would love to say that this wasn't necessary….but the very act of doing this to me is making me want to hit someone…So I fiddle with my own fingers and look down at my lap and sigh. I've long decided that I wont be talking to anyone. Not today.

So how long do I sit there for? I don't know…I have no idea…minutes or tens of minutes…hours? Probably minutes….I hear the door open and close and I hear someone sit down at the other side of the table.

"Hey Kiddo."

Morgan?

Morgan is here? I don't look up…and don't respond.

"I just came to see if they are treating you alright."

I still don't look up. I don't want him to see my face…I don't want Derek to profile me and know more is going on than he knows.

"Reid….look at me." He sounds calm and sad and I think if I look at that face I will cry…so I keep my head down. "I need you to look at me Reid. I need to know you are alright."

"Alright?"

"That they are treating you OK."

I rattle my hands under the table…I want to get out of the room…I don't want to be here with Morgan. "I don't want to talk to you." I mutterunder my breath.

"I can understand that buddy…but can you just look at me? So I can say I've see you."

I don't want him reporting my condition back to base… don't want Hotchner knowing…I don't want JJ's sympathy or Garcia's tears…and I don't want a 'get well soon' card from Prentiss. "Leave me alone."

And the words come out as a spiteful hiss.

"Reid…I want to help you."

"NO!" and now I look up.

-o-o-o-

And what I see makes my stomach hitch…This isn't the Reid I know…this is a withdrawn ill shadow of Reid. I try to pick out a familiar feature I can go back and say…'he looked great.' But I cant…He looks like he has been crying…I've seen that look before…that drugged ill sick look of his…The dark shadows under his eyes…the paleness of his lips…the weird redness under his nose. His face looks hollow and dead…there is no life in his eyes…

"Sonofabitch Spencer." I stand up. I want to hold him…try to show him that he has friends, but then I remember why he is here. What he has been accused off…the way he hasn't defended against it adequately. "Has Flanders been here?" Why I think he has I don't know…it's just a feeling…and I lean across the table and put my hand on Reid's arm. The reaction isn't what I expected…He too tries to stand…and he starts shouting.

"Get off me! Don't come here and expect me to want to see or talk to you Morgan…I don't want…….." And his words are cut off when one of the guards pushes him back down again…and now as I move I can see how he has been cuffed to the table and I want to tell them to remove them but I don't get the chance…

Reid again tries to stand and he is looking at me with those dead eyes and telling me that he doesn't want t see me again…to tell Hotch to mind his own business…to let everyone know that this is what he is…and to just back off and let it be…

"I hope you are happy you bastard!"

and I've never heard him use language like that before…So I stand back and watch as he tries to pull his hands out of the cuffs….but the guards are on him and pushing him across the table.

"Get off me!" I hear the words being shouted over and over again as they stick needles in him and then un-cuff his hands and ankles.

I am on the receiving end of some dirty looks from the orderlies as they drag a now sedated Reid out of the room. I wonder if this is what happened when Hotch came to see him…if this is why his counsellor and doctor have said no more visits from him….and now I guess I will be added to that list. "You sons of bitches." I mutter as I leave the room just in time to see them drag Reid through a door and out of sight.

"I need to see his doctor his counsellor." I say.

"I don't think that will be possible. You aren't next of kin." I shake my head and run my hands over the back of my neck.

"I need to help him."

"The best way to help Spencer is to stay away." I am told…and the man in the suit walks away from me and maybe he is right. Maybe we need to leave Reid to heal and stop wanting to see what isn't there anymore.

-o-o-o-

"I plan on visiting Spencer at different times of the day and night. You will ensure that I have access."

"Of course Dr Fennik."

Dr? That is fine…I don't mind that…I am here tonight…it's dark outside and I show the bloke on the door my pass and the doors are buzzed open for me. I keep my face away from the camera's…not that it really matters too much…but better safe than having to kill a load of people on my night off.

I am told he is in his room. I am told he had to be sedated again…I don't know if this will be good for me or bad….I am hoping it will be good.

"You will leave us alone. I don't want to be disturbed…especially if he has had a bad day. Do not enter the room under any circumstances. I might be a while." They nod and leave me standing by the door. I give myself an inner grin and push the door open. The room is dimly lit and I push the door shut and run my hand over the inside of the lock…I hear it click shut…we will be left alone now. I stand back and run my finger over the bit of wall next to the door. I watch carefully the little red blinking light…as it stops blinking and stays steady.

Now I move to Spencer.

"Hey babes." And I sit on the bed….I am removing my jacket as I sit and I smirk at his back. "I'm here for my conjugal visit. But he doesn't move….I am kicking off my boots and unbuttoning the front of my jeans as I lay down next to him… "Babes." I run my finger over the back of his neck and look at the little flick of curls in his hair. "Wake up Spence… It's only me." But still he doesn't move…but I see his skin shiver as my fingernails run over it. "On your back…I want you." But he lays on his front. "Babes?"

"Leave me alone."

I hear the words, but they are breathy and whispered; almost as though in a dream and so I take his shoulder and roll him over so he is on his back. "Let me treat you." I say into his ear as I move astride him and he looks to the side and closes his eyes.

"Please Floyd…don't."

But I take small notice of him as I run my fingers over his chest and inspect the scars and the ribs….I move my face down and lick around his nipples and touch him everywhere I can reach. I need him…I need him so much that I don't think this visit need last long.

"Spence….." And I want to rip into him…I can hear his heart thumping…and I can hear the laboured breathing…still he is not fully healed…I could help that now. If I wanted to…but I like this weakened version. I can feel his hand on my shoulders…and for a few seconds I have the feeling that he is going to push me away…but then I feel the fingers digging into me.

"I need to tell you something."

I lift my head and look at his face and he does look ill…and it makes me want him all the more… "What's wrong?" I look into those eyes of his and my head spins and my stomach ties it's self in knots.

"Morgan came to visit me."

"I see."

"I didn't let him touch me."

"I know." And I bend over and kiss him lightly on the lips. "It's ok…I cant smell him on you."

"I told him I didn't want to see him."

"Good. Now can I fuck you?"

"They will catch you."

"No they wont…not until I want them to."

I manoeuvre myself and Spencer and run my hands over newly exposed bits of flesh.

"I don't have lube." I draw circles with my tongue over his abdomen.

"That's never stopped you before."

And he is right.

"I have syphilis."

"That's never stopped you before either."

"I was joking." And I move down a bit further.

"No you weren't."

And he's right…the little freak…he knows me too well.

I pleasure him…orally…then I fuck him…passionately...

OK…not passionately…like he is my whore…I pinch him…I bite him…I scratch him…and he arches his back and moans and I have to quieten him down with my mouth and tongue…

……………Is this the best fuck I've ever had? Probably not…the best Spencer has ever had…most likely. I take him on his back…

then on his side….

Then on his front…

Then he has me…because I can go all night…I am never done…and I can pass that wonderful ability onto the filth I am fucking…and damn…Spencer is good…But people will ask questions if I never leave his room again….they will find us locked in a deathly love fuck…

I do love him.

I might not say it….but I think he knows.

"I didn't mean this to happen. I will get you out."

"I know."

"You must do what I ask you to do though. Remember don't communicate. Don't take the drugs."

"They are spiking my food."

"I will tell them to stop."

"Do you have any smokes?" Spencer has his hands on my body…on the few bits of flesh I have on display.

"You don't smoke." But I am pulling a small pack of hand rolled shit from my pocket.

"I think I've just started."

* * *


	9. Chapter 9 The Lover

Chapter 9 

The Lover

**A/N: PLEASE NOTE….NON/CON AND RACIST COMMENTS…**

* * *

How someone had managed to get by my security system I don't know. I just know that right now I am face down on the floor and someone is on my back. There is a spray of blood up the wall where teeth dug into the side of my neck. I can feel it oozing out gently and forming a puddle on the floor.

"I would like to be able to say sorry, but that's not something I do. You have been very stupid."

The words are being hissed into my ear….and I can feel a hand pulling at my clothing.

"You touched something which you had no right to touch. I am going to give to you what you gave him. Enjoying it are you?"

I don't know who this person is or what he is talking about but I am taking a wild guess here that this person attempting to rape me is Flanders.

"I don't usually like fucking dark skins. You taste all wrong. You are dirty…..but I am going to make an exception here so I can tell Spence that I punished you for what you did to him. You realise…you know don't you that if you hadn't done that…then I would have been able to help out at the disaster of a weekend bonding. That shit wouldn't have happened…and this shit wouldn't be happening. You can lay all the blame on your own rather muscular shoulders."

The bastard…I thought it was him….

"He wanted it." I spit back….and I feel a hand lay on the top or my head and snake around to the front where he grips and lifts my head then smacks it down hard so I feel the cartilage in my nose give way.

"No one wants to be raped. That is why it's wrong…your stupid nigger."

"I didn't rape him!" I shout back…but he's not listening to me now…his words and curses cover anything I try to say to him…and though I can tell he is much smaller than I am…I can tell by the weight of him sitting on my legs…I cant get away from him…and the more I struggle the harder he hits and the quicker my blood leave my body.

"You fucked my boyfriend…then when his mind is screwed too you go and fuck with his head in the place he is locked away in."

And I can feel sharp nails running down my back and across the top of my buttocks.

"And I know you've been had like this before…Close you eyes and be grateful I don't cut your bastard foot off you little black shit." And his touching me where I really don't want his hands to be. "What's wrong nigger…don't like the white boy touching you?"

-o-o-o-

I want him to pay for what he did to Spencer. I want him to remember this…I want him to be looking over his shoulder for me for the rest of his miserable life. I want this to be both the worst and best fuck he's ever been given…

Life changing….in so many ways.

"You ready?" I ask…being polite…it pays to be polite to the one you are fucking, but I don't get an answer…not a real one…just a string of insults and threats…and neither bother me…so I just plough on in.

Here's the thing…

He is the wrong colour for me…I don't like it….and I don't enjoy it….I like my meat to be white….or oriental….at a push….or Hispanic…but this colour….no….I will have to shower to get rid of the smell…I know Spencer didn't enjoy getting poked by him…I know he didn't…he couldn't have. That would just be too wrong.

By the time I leave him…when I open up his kitchen window and slide my skanky butt out of his place he has stopped moaning…stopped moving…but not stopped breathing. I can hear him…he heavy laboured breaths of someone who wants more but hasn't got the bottle to make the request. I look at the sky to check the time and decide to go home for now. Well the place I am using as my home for now anyway.

I walk…

Walking has never been something which has bothered me too much…and the fact that at the other end of the walk is something nice keeps me going for longer…I just have to be careful. Morgan didn't see my face…but I think there will be quite a bit of DNA floating around if they look hard enough…HAHA! Oh yes….let us hope they have a good old hard look for my DNA on and in you my little dusky fuck-friend…not that they will have anything to match it up with….that's a wonderful little trick I have….that and my ever changing fingerprints. I still don't want to get picked up though. I don't want to be away from Spencer for too long so the slammer is a no no for me right now. Later on maybe…when I fancy days at the pool table and quick blows in the shower block…until then…………

This door I am standing in front of isn't the one I was aiming for. I wanted to go home…well to the basement at the hospital anyway…which is where I am staying but that isn't where I am. This is a small apartment block and I think what brought me here was the smell. The vile stench which assails my senses is Hotchner.

I know he is up there…and I know Prentiss has been here too…

It is almost like following a neon line floating in the air…..I can see Emily has gone…I can smell her…her lust and her dirt…but she's gone…and Hotchner is there alone. I could have him…I could take what I want from him….His skin…I could do that…tonight…but I've had Morgan….and my delivery of punishment for what he has done to Spencer might be marred by that; and I can still smell the nigger on me.

An idea…a good one as far as I can see it…An excellent one especially as there are no shower facilities at the place I am holding up right now…So I smile and walk towards the main doors…you need a pass key thing but I run my fingers over the lock and it pops open for me. So here I am standing in the lower hallway.

It's a nice place. Off white walls and pictures of old movie stars screwed to the walls. Some of the walls surface if bare brickwork…the rest painted…there is a table with a big old blue and white vase and some lilies in it. The place smells strongly of the flowers…All in all not a bad entrance. I've seem some quite a bit worse than this. There is an elevator…but that is of no use to me. I can't track in that thing…I need the stairs. I will be looking out for where Emily left the floor and got in the lifts….Then I can track back to Hotchner. I smile to myself as I jog up the stairs and finally on the fifth floor meet up with the lovely smell of Prentiss in heat.

I lick my lips and start to track back to where she came from….around the door at the end I can smell it. The decay and hostility…the smell which follows the bastard around like flies follow shit. I knock on the door gently and stand with my head down so he can only see the top of my head. Still a lovely view I will have you know…I am awesome from all angles…And this thought makes me grin and I let out a small snerky laugh to myself.

I don't need him to completely unlock the door…I just need the inner bolts off….and maybe if I am lucky the chain….but I can bypass the rest easily enough.

The door opens slightly and I see a glimpse of a face as I slide my foot into place. "Hey." I start of friendly. I am a friendly chap once you get to know me. It is just getting to know me which takes time.

Years ago…and this is going back a long long time…before I knew Spencer…there was Anthony. He was delicious. Nothing compared to him…He was like sweet smooth wet chocolate inside a smooth shell. The sort you put on your tongue and let it dissolve and it seeps out and coats your mouth with a taste…more than a taste…an orgasmic sensation which even heroin can't beat. It is the ultimate drug. That was Anthony. .

I would watch him…stand back in the crowd and look at the way his hair hung down and _just _touched his shoulders…the way his fingers would comb through his long hair and slip it behind his ears….I would watch his eyes…those beautiful green eyes….I'd never seen anything quite as wonderful.

He had a special way of standing….I don't really know what it was now…it was so long ago…but I'd watch him…just standing there…in those frock coats and boots…in those trousers which fitted so well in all the right places.

On hot days when he took his coat off I made sure I stood behind him….and for hours I would watch his rear end. I'm sure…I know….I wasn't the only one to have an eye on him. I eliminated those though. They were nothing…whores…tarts…careless stupid girls and boys….I took them all and removed them from the scene.

I started to pay attention to him. I would pass him and smile….I would offer to get him a drink. I would do anything and everything to get him to shoe me the attention I needed from him. It took a long time. It took years….slowly removing opposition until I was the only person who would dare talk to him. He had a curse some people said. 'Don't be friends with him….they have a nasty habit of disappearing.' But I carried on and eventually he accepted a drink from me…eventually he said 'yes' to my odd request. 'A walk down to the river? I have a book….I will read to you.' He finally accepted….and it was on the river banks that I tasted him….that sweet oh so sweet taste of Anthony.

Too much time wasted. Too many years pursuing this lust….and when I finally got it…it was almost time to say 'goodbye.' Eventually it was the cursed one who didn't make it back from his walk to the chapel on that sunny Sunday afternoon.

They found him the next day…torn apart... bits of him were missing….and I sat in the grass with my legs crossed and for the first time ever regretted an action to the point that I cried.

But you see what I am trying to say here is that….I was good to him. He just didn't trust me…didn't get to know me. Just like this shit who is trying to close the door on my foot.

"Let me in." I tell him….and look down to see what it is pressing on my chest. "Shoot me or let me in." And maybe I shouldn't have given him the choice because the force of the bullet entering my chest actually knocked me back off my feet and across the corridor opposite his door. I hit the wall and I felt the back of my head crack nastily on the rough surface behind me….and I slid to a stupid lump onto the floor.

For a while the feeling left my legs…and then as I saw feet come into my view and that is why I was able to get up and attempt to do what I came here for…

As I start to push up from the floor I hear a voice but the blood and adrenaline are pumping far to fast now for me to make sense of anything said…all I know is that someone shot me…and that someone might have to die for it.

It hurts!

Yes will admit it hurts….and I have been off the morphine all day now and other aches and pains are creeping back in again…and I am so fucking mad at this shit for doing this.

"Do you now how much this shirt cost me?!" I shout at him…and as I try to get up he is kicking at me…which gives me the chance to grab hold of him and dig in my fingers into that soft flesh of the inner thigh.

I can feel something against the side of my head and I think it might be a gun again. But I try to ignore it. I have to get my act together and kill him. Or at least make him wish he was dead…my hand wraps around the weapon and I rip it easily from his hands….and now I am on my feet and I am the one with the gun.

"I'll fucking shoot your sodding brains out if you don't stop kicking me!" And he is backing off slightly as I wave the gun in his direction. He is shouting something at me….but I can't hear him…still all there is, is the sound of the blood in my ears…and the feeling of pain in my chest. I cough and spit up some blood…and look at the gun in my hand.

When Spencer was a kid….something happened….something I don't think he has ever told anyone about….but the day it happened I made a promise to him…and I don't make promises lightly. I said to him. "I will never use a weapon again." And here I am holding a gun….I hurl it away from me as though it's too hot to hold….and it bounces and slides down the passage way…

"I'm going to kill you." I say to him…and I am on him and we are flying through his door into the apartment.

-o-o-o-

Why isn't he dead?

The round took him off his feet….there is blood smeared over the wall where he hit it…blood from his back and from the back of his head. I don't know what the hell is going on…how is he on his feet…how did he disarm me.

I am trying to think straight here…and I'm not finding it easy. At least I can see who this person is…and how is this person over powering me so damned easily. He has a bleeding bloody hole in his chest and back and he is screaming at me about the cost of the clothing and how much dry cleaners charge these days.

My thoughts are that I am in shock…but why me and not him…I can feel his hands at my throat and my arms are coming up between his and moving outwards to break his hold…but ….

He should he dead!...why can I not push this thing off me?

I give up trying to push his hands away and produce an upper cut which would have knocked out an elephant…but this man just blinks at me and screams out a list of clothing costs at me… it seems more important to him that this has cost money than the fact he might bleed to death. He moves fast…pushing me back – further back….right back into my apartment….as I go back I grab for a table lamp and at the point I smash it on the side of his head he releases a hand and introduces my mouth to his fist.

We both make contact at the same time. His other hand lets go and I drop the lamp. Already I am pushed against the wall and have nowhere to go from here….This person though…he takes a step back and puts a hand over the bloody mess on his chest.

"Three hundred bucks for a damned shirt. And you are fucking lucky I don't have on my best jacket and waistcoat."

He is still going on about the clothing and I wonder if he is thinking straight…if the shock of the bullet ripping through his chest has sent him insane.

"Get out of my apartment." I say…I try to stay calm. I don't want this person to go any more violent than he already is.

"I'm not done yet. I've not done what I came to do."

He steps back again and is watching me closely…he pulls something from his pocket and puts it in his mouth…a rough hand rolled cigarette and then he takes out a small silver lighter and he lights up.

"I want to ask you something."

He says to me as he takes a long drag….he's not taking his eyes off me and so I stand still and listen to him. The smoke is vile and I wonder what it is he is smoking…I almost expect to see smoke seeping out of the hole in his chest. I keep listening….I'm not ready to talk yet.

"Why do you think you can come into Spencer's life and take him from me?"

He takes another deep drag.

"I haven't." I say.

"You tried."

And he waves his smoke in my face.

"No I haven't." I don't want to antagonise him.

"**Yes – you – have**." And each word is underlined and put in bold by his hand gestures with the cigarette. "And I told you to keep away from him. How many times do you need to be told?"

He steps back again and I can feel the weight of my hand gun on my ankle but will shooting him again achieve anything? "Well you are telling me now. I am listening."

"I want a beer." He tells me. "If you don't have whiskey."

"I'm not offering you a drink…I am telling you to get out of my apartment if you have nothing else to say to me."

And he walks in a small circle and comes back so he is a bit too close to me. "You see you are not understanding this situation Hotchner. I am giving the orders here. Do you know…I've known Spencer for a lot longer than you have? I have been fucking him since he was sixteen. I don't think you knew that did you?"

He is right…I didn't know that….and I didn't really want to know that. If it is true. So I just look at him.

"And you think I don't know? I can smell it on you Hotchner….I can smell your lustful emotions pouring out of you like the smoke from this." Waving it in my direction again…and he coughs and spits up blood onto my floor. A quick rub under his nose. "I know that talking about him…just my words are making you want him…making you want him in your bed…but he doesn't want you."

"I know."

"You know? You do? Then why are you trying to get into his pants still. I left you alone to watch…to look at his wet skin and the way he taunted you. I left you to look at his little perky nipples fresh from the shower…to take in that wonderful smell of a freshly soaped Spencer…I let you have that…because you didn't touch…so what changed?"

"You are a vile creature." I inform him.

And he nods at me. "A vile creature who was …to a point…willing to share. Some things I am willing to share…others are strictly mine and mine only. You crossed the line."

"You walked out on him. You made love to someone in his bed….and then you walked out on him. I was there to pick up the pieces…try and repair the mess you made…because you weren't there when he needed you."

And he is walking towards me again…the cigarette butt dropped to the floor and stepped on by his lace up boots. "I was picked up for speeding."

"What?"

"The day I came to get him…the day he was in trouble…I was on my way…and some fucking shitwad cops picked me up for speeding. I couldn't be there…they locked me up."

"That makes up for what you have done? The way you have destroyed him? You think that one thing...you think that makes up for everything else?"

"I didn't fucking destroy him!" His nose is virtually touching mind now and I can smell the stale stink of his breath. "His father did that…his mother did that…you did that…Jason fucking Gideon did that!"

The head-butt comes so suddenly that I don't even realise he has done anything until he takes a step back and rubs at his forehead. "What? Me? Gideon?" My head is swimming again and stupidly I have let this monster get the upper hand and I am no longer wondering why Spencer let Flanders hit him so much…I understand now…there is no avoiding it….it's how he communicates….A sadistic psychopath has slowly been eroding what was left of Spencer and I know what he is doing and still I am finding it hard to withdraw from him. I wipe the blood away from my nose and off my split lip and just stare at him…Along with the smell of smoke and decay is a strange sweet musky smell…and it is so strong that it is making my eyes water and it is that which is stopping me from going for my second weapon. It is that which is making sure I stay where Flanders pushed me. I stand and just look at him. You wouldn't think of him as being the monster he is….he is much shorter than I am…shorter than Spencer…he is slightly built…he has an effete face…he is in fact very pretty….and I have to shake my head and rid myself of any unwanted thoughts…

Damnit…I know what is going on here and I am still having to fight it…for a child…how would a child have fought this off…a child of sixteen? I want to kill Flanders…I want to tear him limb from limb. As he turns and walks to my drinks cabinet I bend down and pull out my other gun.

I'm not going to let him do this.

I will not let him manipulate me like this.

I don't care if Spencer thinks he needs him.

I point the gun at his back….I can see where there is a growing blood stain spreading over his back between his shoulder blades….

I think he hears the click of the safety because he turns around at that minute…and he is staring at me…and I am staring at him. "One move Flanders and I will open fire."

But somehow he moves and the gun doesn't go off…and I'm not sure what happened there………………

-o-o-o-

It takes but one step to reach him…counting in my head….

Step one….I reach for the gun

Step two I rip it from his hand.

Three and I use it to smack him on the side of his face….

Four….he starts to lean forward.

Five….knee in his face…..Six and an left uppercut….Seven I throw the gun to the side….Eight I half turn and kick him hard in the balls….Nine he makes a strange noise and goes down to his knees…Ten and I kick him in the face…then I about lose count there…I kick him in the face again though…around his chin….then his abdomen. He makes that noise you make when all the air is suddenly forced from your lungs…so I kick him there again…and he is making good 'umph' sounds as I kick hard enough for his body to leave the floor. I feel something give under my heel as I stomp down on him as he tries to roll away….and I stamp down on his hip making him howl in pain.

"You fucking keep away from him!"

And I bend over and start using my fists on his face. He puts his hand up to cover his head but my fists still find a way through.

"If I hear you have been back I will come and fucking skin you alive."

Shit…I'm in pain…I have to go…he is lucky…he is….because I would finish this now….I would…but damn…..I'm coughing up blood and spitting it over his face and body…

"You can't kill me you stupid shit…you understand me? You can't do it."

I stand up and look at the mess I have made…he is laying on his front now…pushing up onto his elbows….blood dripping from his face as he too coughs and spits up blood.

"Did you hear me? Do I have to say it again?"

Did he shake his head or nod? Do I give him the benefit of the doubt…I push him over onto his back and he doesn't fight me…I go through his jacket pocket and remove his cell….I take out the sim and leave the rest with him….then I pull the house phone from the wall.

"Don't visit him…or next time Spencer will get this. Understand me?"

-o-o-o-

I waited all day and he didn't come.

I showered and they watched me….they asked me. "Whose been hitting you?" But I don't know what they are talking about….

So they ask who bit me….I have bite marks on me….and I tell them….

I tell them………. "I can't remember."

* * *


	10. Chapter 10 The Drugs

Chapter 10

The Drugs

* * *

I think I'm getting a cold.

When I wake up in the morning feeling empty…not hungry…just completely empty I have a blocked nose and a sore throat.

I clean my teeth down in the communal washrooms then walk back to my room. Still only have pyjamas…surely they will let me have my clothes soon? I walk slowly down to the place where we sit and get food.

It is brought to us. I think it is because most of us shake too much to be able to carry the plastic trays of food. We always sit in the same places. Always. No rule about it…it just happens…and I sit at the end of the second table…and it reminds me of being at school again. Not quite fitting in with the rest of them. Not quite able to relax. My mind everywhere except on what it should be. I have eggs – scrambled…and a bit of toast cut into two triangles placed in front of me.

"Good morning Spencer."

And a plastic spoon.

"I was wondering." I say to the guy. "When I can have my own clothes. Seems everyone else here does."

And I get a smile in return.

"Everyone else takes their meds Spencer. Everyone else eats their food. Everyone else behaves."

I look at the food and push the tray away from me. I don't want the drugs they are putting in my food. I want to think straight. I don't want to be drugged.

"I need to talk to my counsellor." I say.

But he just walks away from me muttering something about only getting treats when you learn the rules.

I leave my food where it is. I'm meant to show it to someone before I leave. They like to monitor what people are eating…but I think there must be a reason for it other than curiosity…and I don't like being watched like they do. So I leave it and walk to the television room where Sesame Street is playing and people are laughing and drooling and pissing themselves….and I am one of these people now.

I walk away again…and find the table tennis room. Harvey is in there playing with a ball. But not playing the game…no point in even trying to get a game with Harvey in there….he is likely to eat the ball just to stop anyone else.

I am wondering what to do next when a voice next to me and a hand on my arm alerts me that someone is wanting to talk to me.

"Spencer?"

I turn and look at the orderly and I sigh.

"Yes." I say. A statement not a question.

"You didn't eat your breakfast."

And I sigh and turn…I know what is coming next and I don't see why I have to make it easy for them. I start to run….and they are on me and pulling me to the floor before I get more than three paces away.

"NO!" I don't want to be drugged. "Please don't." But the needles are in me….and I can feel the cold and the burning of the drugs hitting my system as I lay there on my back and look into the eyes of the guys holding me down.

Somehow in the struggle my pyjama top has come undone and I am laying there displaying my chest and stomach.

"What the hell happened to you?" One of them asks…but I grab my scant clothing and pull it around me.

"Nothing." I want to get to my feet but they are still holding me down. My nose has started to run too…and now I have a headache. "Please…let me go." The stress is hurting my chest…I can hear I am wheezing and I feel I will start coughing soon.

I feel like crap.

"Someone will want to talk to you about those marks boy."

I lay there and frown at them. "I'm not a boy."

"No – no you're not…you just act like a kid. Get up and go to your room. You just earned a point against your name."

So I push myself up onto my elbows and sit watching as they move away. Then I look down at my chest and stomach. I can see the marks there…but don't I always have marks on me like that? I touch the scar on my chest and run my hand over the one on my arm. Then I sigh and groggily get to my feet.

"I'm not going to let you do this to me." I say. "I wont let you!" I say louder.

They come back…they take me arms and feet and carry me to my room. They dump me on the bed and stand there waiting for someone. A big guy in a suit arrives and stands looking at me.

"We need to get some things straight Spencer. You are here because you committed a crime. I personally think you should be locked in jail with the other criminals…you are here under sufferance. And I am telling you…if you refuse your medication…if you keep fighting us on this one of two things will happen. You will be put in a jacket and a padded room…or you will be sent to county jail to serve your fifteen years and the final decision will ultimately be mine. I will decide if you are insane Spencer…or just avoiding what you should be doing. Keep pissing me off and you will be out of here faster than you can blink and your damned counsellor cant help you then!"

They lock in me in my room for the day. I spend it laying on the bed trying to find the strength to move. Trying to get the energy back the stupid meds stripped me of…but there is nothing there…so when they some in during the after noon and drag me down to the showers there is nothing much I can do to stop them. They strip me off and shove me under the warm water and stand and watch as I curl up into a ball on the floor and let the water wash over me. I don't want them to see my nakedness…it is mine…I don't want to share with anyone but….but….Floyd…and maybe Hotch…maybe.

I know they are watching me. I know they are going to go back and report me for being awkward…but this is my life. I need to try to preserve what is mine. I don't know how long they left me there for…not very long I don't think….but they grab my arms and pull me out again.

"Stand there and dry yourself." They tell me.

"I I w wanted….I wanted my own c c clothes." They are making me feel nervous.

"You get pyjamas for now boy." I hate being called a boy. It is belittling but for now I don't say anything. It will only aggravate them.

"I need to see my counsellor." Is what I say as I rub the rough towel over my bruised skin. My throat still hurts and my nose is running again….but I deal with that. Once dressed again the say.

"Come with us." And they take my arms and guide me from the showers and down the corridor to a room I've not been in before. It is small and white and there is nothing much in it. They ask me to stand against the wall…and suddenly it feels as though I am in front of a firing squad.

"Why? I stand and face them but I don't move back.

"because you were told to." I am informed.

"Look you cant tell me to do something and not explain why."

So they stop talking to me and drag me over to the wall. "Strip down to your waist." The taller of them says.

"What? No!" and I want to get out of the room…I need to get out quickly…sudden fear has over ridden everything else. If Floyd finds out…and he will…then I will be in trouble. But I don't have much choice. They drag me back to the wall and they have my top off before I realise what they are doing. One of them pulls out a camera and they tell me.

"Stand still. We need to have photographic evidence of your injuries."

"I don't have any!" And I start to walk forward again.

"We can do thins like this Spencer…or we can restrain you. Those are the choices. You decide."

I have a very horrible feeling about all of this. I don't want this happening so again I attempt the leave….and this time a big red button next to the door is presses and they are pulling me to the floor as the door springs open and more people rush in.

Maybe I am screaming….I'm not sure now…things are going fuzzy but there is a lot of noise going on. I can feel I am being lifted off the floor by my arms and legs again…and I wriggle and writhe and try to get away but they have hold of me too tightly…and really where the hell am I going to run to? All the doors leading out are locked.

Someone is shouting…someone is screaming and I'm still not sure if it is me or not….I am laid down on a bed and then straps are placed across me…and still I struggle and am I spitting at them….I think I bit someone…I can taste blood in my mouth…and now I can feel that familiar woozy feeling of drugs flooding my mind and slowing me down.

They don't knock me out. They just take every thing from me. My ability to think…and my ability to fight…I just stay there….and I let them take the straps off again and I let them strip me off completely and I let them take photos…there's nothing I can do to stop it. They make notes…they make comments…they ask me things…

"Did someone assault you?"

And yes…they did…often…but my mouth and brain don't work and I cant tell them. I can feel them touching me and inspecting me and asking me more questions..

"Who did this to you Spencer. These aren't from being restrained. What the hell happened?"

But nothing happened…I have nothing to tell them so I shake my head very carefully because it feels as though my brain has come loose of its housing. I want to be left alone. I want to sleep…I want …no I need Floyd.

-o-o-o-

It hurts like hell. And I can promise you that hell hurts and the further I walk the worse it is getting. I've pulled my jacket closed around me to hide the blood but I need to make sure people don't see me. I don't want to be stopped…I have to get home. I have to get my meds…I have to numb my mind to all of this shit.

The back way in is the way I go…it's always easy to just walk in. No security around here. I didn't get the chance to shower…I stnk. I smell of blood and dirt and Hotchner…and Morgan…and I need to get it off me somehow.

I walk down the concrete stairs and down a small passage and then through a big dark room and out the other side. Out there are more doors…and one of them I walk through. I lock it behind me and walk slowly to the mattress on the floor….I flop down onto my back and drape an arm over my face to shield it from the low dim light.

On the floor next to the bed are phials and syringes. My morphine injections. I snatch up one of each and inspect them carefully. The pain is so intense not that my eyes are watering and making it hard to read…and now my hands are shaking…

"Such shit." I wanted to go and see Spencer. I wanted to lay with him and hold him and love him. I wanted to comfort and protect him…but I'm laying here trying to dope myself up instead cos that bastard shot me. He bloody shot me…I still cant believe it. I should have used it on him. I really should have…but a promise made by me isn't lightly given…and I squeeze my eyes shut and hold my treasures tightly.

I don't know how much I suck up into the syringe…I don't know how much I inject into my body…I am going into shock I think…the shaking is increasing…I have to stop it quickly.

And as it slowly takes over and gradually the pain dies back I pull my knees up and undo the front of my jeans and give myself a hand job. The best I will get tonight….but that's painful too. I will need to go and get antibiotics before it gets too bad and I need that other crap again. I seem to pick up STD's a bit too easily. Maybe I should use protection….maybe I shouldn't fuck someone who is diseased…it's not like I cant tell and so as one pleasure over takes the pain I lay back and close my eyes and pretend it is Spencer's mouth working on me…that glorious mouth…that wonderful tongue…and good god….this is perfect…

When I open my eyes next it is dark and the pain has gone…my task now is to get rid of the smells on me which don't belong there.

I roll off the mattress and slowly pull the blooded clothing off. My shirt and jacket are ruined…and so I just throw them into a corner….and then I inspect the damage to my chest. Still it is bleeding slightly. I need to lay down again and try to let it heal…but I also need to see Spencer…but as I try to walk to get a bottle of water I can feel my legs giving way under me and I am suddenly on the floor.

"Shit." I mutter to myself. "I need more time."

'_sorry babes….I'll be there when I can'_

I send him a little mental message. Just so he knows I am still here…I am still needing him…and so I roll to my back again and close my eyes and think of him…think of his eyes…his mouth his everything….and my hand makes it's way back to my pleasure zone and I enjoy thinking about him while I lay here trying to stop myself bleeding out.

-o-o-o-

I am in my room again….and I don't know why they have this attitude about me. What do they think I'm going to do? I am kept locked in for the night. I can see the small light blinking on and off where they cameras are monitoring me. I just want to be in peace. I want to be left alone. I want out of this damned place…but I don't know how that will happen. If I comply and let them do what they want I will spend then rest of my life sedated. If I protest they strap me down and sedate me…or they will send me out and to the prison…and I don't want to be there. I cant be there…they will kill me…I will spend my life in solitary. Which I suppose is what is happening now. They are keeping me away from the others…they come in and give me food…and when I refuse it they threaten to tube feed me.

"You cant. I don't want food." I tell them.

"You are sick…you don't know what you are talking about." They tell me "We are trying to make you better."

"You are drugging me."

"You are refusing your medication."

"Exactly. I want to think…I want to know what is going on.

"And we need to keep control Spencer."

"I am in control." I hiss at them…

"Are you going to tell us who raped you?"

Raped? Is that what they think? "No one….I wasn't raped…nothing happened…now go away and leave me."

"You are covered in bite marks and scratches Spencer." The guy in the suit is talking to me now.

"I wasn't raped!"

And in response I am jabbed with needles and told. "You have two more days Spencer…two days to show us if you are insane or not. Then you will be moved. It's up to you. Talk to us…tell us what is going on in your head…explain the marks…then we will know what to do."

I turn my head from him as my eyes get heavy and the room dims. "I wasn't raped." I repeat.

* * *


	11. Chapter 11 Comforter

Chapter 11

Comforter

**A/N: SLIGHT SLASH WARNING. Lots of yummies warning too!**

* * *

I cant remember everything that happened to me.

When I awaken I am curled up in huddle in the corner of the room. The pain has passed….and so has the pleasure…I just feel this strange numbness to me now. I push my self up onto one elbow and rub the sleep from my eyes with my free hand. That nasty morning taste is in my mouth and a huge wave of lethargy washes over me. I have to sort myself out and go and see Spencer.

Soon……

I have to……

I must clean myself up first. The bullet wound is healing…but I still think it needs a dressing of some sort over it. I crawl over to where I threw my shirt earlier on and I being reluctantly to rip strips. I make a small pad and I bind it around my chest. Once I am dressed it wont notice….I don't think. The rest of me needs to be washed…and the only water I have is in the bottles I have packed over the other side of the room. A deep breath and I am on my way over to them. I've still not got up onto my feet and so I crawl over to the water.

Damn I don't feel well…I feel like shit…and this is Hotchner's fault…

I would kill him. Really I would but for one reason….Spencer….he likes him. They get on….They have feeling for each other….and Spence will never forgive me if I kill him. So I cant…can I?

Here I am with a bit of expensive shirt in one hand and a bottle of mineral spring in the other….I have no soap but I do have a pisser. I sit so my back is to the wall and slowly wet the cloth and start to wipe it over my exposed flesh, removing the crusts of blood and muck which has been collecting there.

I've never been a great one for washing and stuff. Seems pointless…but I need to so I can pass as his counsellor. I've missed a day. I hope he's not missing me too much. I'm sure he's not. Probably not even noticed my not being there.

And that thought makes me angry. How dare he not miss me. Have I not done all I can for him? I manage to get to my feet and I wonder if I should change my jeans…I've been wearing these for a few days now, but they really are the most comfortable ever…I add to them a pale pink shirt with a collar this time…for a change…and a black heavy brocade waist coat. I pull my black jacket on over the top…and run my fingers through my hair then tie it back in a small pony tail.

I look damned good. I will have to be careful…I will get mobbed if I'm not…HAHA!

I shave using my knife. A knife I have and play with but never take it out with me. I don't need knives and they come under the category of weapons….so no…I don't carry a knife. I shave with it…scrape my skin clean with it…hack through bones if they are here with me…but they're not….so I don't need to. I just need to go now and see Spencer. The knife I place on the floor next to the mattress and I prepare myself to go and see the one thing the only thing I love. Want….need…desire…refuse to share. However I need to get stuff for this damned STD I have lurking around in my body. I need to get some penicillin to combat that…because I sure don't feel too well today.

My nose is stuffy…I think my glands are swollen…I have a sore on my cock which isn't going away…and my hand and feet hurt. On top of that there is the pain in my joints which I imagined was due to the air the shits injected into me. Now I wonder if it's syphilis causing it. I dunno….something bad happened with the injections…something bad is happening with this infection…I need them both sorted out. Soon….now….I will go and nick some stuff now.

I'm living…in case you have forgotten in the basement of the hospital. An old bit that never gets used any more…and it I was found it doesn't really matter…I will just move on to somewhere else…but being here is useful if you want to get free drugs….

So I am dressed up and looking hot and need to get my stuff….I exit the way I came in. There is a quicker way but I don't want to be seen leaving and arriving at different places…I don't need to raise suspicion where there need not be any. So here I am again in the night. It's cool…but not to bad. I light up and make my smoky way to the front entrance of the hospital. I will go in as a visitor…take what I need and then leave. I know which floor is best this time of night. The children's wards. Most of them are sleeping now. Parents go home to care for husbands and other children…or they catch the small amount of sleep they can.

I snag up a white coat on my way through and shrug my arms into it. No one will stop me. They never do. They are probably even used to seeing me around now. I move quickly. I know what I need and get the where I have to be as quickly as I can – avoiding as many people as I can.

I don't want you to misunderstand what I am doing here. I have kids…I am a dad…and I would ever hard a child. I'm just borrowing their meds. They will get more in the morning…I don't have that luxury now do I? And better to take from a kid than an adult. You can lie to a kid and they don't know the difference. It's easier…cleaner…simpler. But that doesn't make it wrong OK?

-o-o-o-

"We are transferring you." I am having his shouted at. "First thing in the morning. There is nothing wrong with you Reid. I don't want you here adding to our numbers….the room could be used by someone who really is sick."

I just sit in the corner of my room and look at the floor.

"Are you listening to me?"

I swallow and nod slowly.

"You are refusing to take your medication…and now you are refusing to eat. You need help we cant give you. Help the state pen can give you."

I don't answer. I have nothing to say to them. They are right…I don't think there is anything wrong with me as such. I just don't want to be here. But the state pen? God no…not there. I tip my head back and rest it against the wall behind me.

"Will you at least start eating? We care….we don't want you dying on our watch…where you are going….they don't give damn Spencer, you will be torn apart physically and mentally and left to die. Is that the situation you want to be in."

"No." I whisper it.

"Then you understand that you must take your medication and you must eat."

"No." I repeat. "I don't want to be drugged."

"It will help you in the long run. Help you sort your mind out if it's not being so over active all the time. You might remember who raped you."

"I wasn't raped!"

"You have human bite marks around your genitals Spencer…you have fingerprint bruises on your backside."

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'"

"No I don't." I pull myself in tighter…trying to get as far away from these people as I can. "And No I wasn't. Why don't you just leave me alone?"

"Excuse me." I hear a familiar voice. "What the fuck is going on here?"

Floyd?

I look up and see him standing slightly back from the guards and doctors.

"If you could leave us alone. I'll talk to him, but you know….if you are drugging his food it will stop….You will also not force feed him. I hope I am making myself clear."

I watch him come over to me and sit down on the floor next to me. "Fennik." I mutter under my breath. It feels wrong saying this name. I watch Floyd get up again and follow them to the door and close it hard behind them. I see him run his hand over the walls and door and glance up at the now still red light.

"Come here babes."

I was about to stand but he indicates with his hand and a nod of his head that I may as well stay where I am. "I see." I say to him and with a smile I crawl over to him. "Floyd…I need my clothes back. They are transferring me." I can feel his hand on the top of my head.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it babes. Let me worry."

"But you wont be the one serving time in the state pen!"

"Shut up and suck me." My head is being pulled forward.

"Floyd I am serious."

"So am I babes. Suck me off…don't worry about serving time. I will sort it for you. Even if you go it wont be for long…..and they will segregate you."

I tipped my head back to stop him from getting what he wanted….and frowned at him. "I don't want to be segregated Floyd!"

"Then you shouldn't have covered up for me all those years babes. It's your own fault."

I want to stand up and protest this but the hands in my hair aren't going to let me get away now. I will have to do as he asks. The strange thing is that as soon as I slip him into my mouth I don't want to be anywhere else doing anything else. This is it…the ultimate…I am pleasuring Floyd. He pushes his hips forward, he arches his back. His head tips back and I can see this throat. I want him to have me there and then, but I feel he has other plans and he certainly isn't going to let go of my head right now. I move my hands slowly up his legs and around to his hips and I close my eyes tightly as I run my fingers over his very pale skin.

He is making small noises from the back of his throat when he comes. When he reaches his point of no return and I can feel the way his fingers tighten in my hair and I can feel his body tremble under my hands. He needed this…He enjoyed it and now he is kneeling on the floor in front of me and taking my mouth with his…and tasting my lips with his tongue and it is my turn to make the noises as I feel his finger digging into my fleshy parts.

And now he is behind me….kissing me…licking me…nibbling on my back and my buttocks…touching me and holding me in his hand as he moves forward and climbs on in and ploughs me hard. I want to yell out…I want tip my head back and howl, but he is saying to me. "ssshhh babes…they will catch us." And it keeps me quiet…but no…I want him so much…I push back as he pushes forwards and it is like a dream…but again…something which has been happening for so long that I cant remember when it started.

-o-o-o-

I remember when it started though. It started that summer. It started with an innocent kiss…children playing…then it went wrong….but that was when it started…the summer of the guns…the summer I made the promise and remembering how young he was…how fresh…how scared and innocent …remembering that makes me want him all the more…harder and harder…one hand running along his ribs and one hand working him…pleasuring him beyond the capability of his senses. I can still hear the noises…I can feel that he is rocking…I can feel him…smell him…and now I pull out and push him onto his back…now I take him…and I show him tricks with my tongue and he whimpers and moans and pulls my hair…and this really is pleasure beyond measure. I cant permit him to go to lock up. I cant live without my Spencer.

-o-o-o-

I call in sick.

Again.

I cant face them.

I don't know what to say. What do I say?

"Hey guys this if Reid's replacement."

I cant say it

Let Rossi do it….better still let Strauss. I'm not going to. I cant replace him. I want to see him so desperately….but I now that Flanders will carry out his threat. I know that he will attack Spencer. Reid will become the victim because Flanders is too much of damned coward to face me.

That's my thoughts anyway.

He should be dead. I shot him in the chest. I took him off his feet.

Pacing

Around and around the apartment…thinking over and over again…how could I have done it differently…and I don't think I could have.

So I will let someone else do the job today. I am going to sit and think…think of Spencer. Think of that lovely smile. Think of how good he made me feel. I will try to remove Flanders from my thoughts. I at least have the pleasure of knowing that this counsellor is looking after Spencer.

I at least have that comfort.

Don't I?

* * *

**A/N: SORRY IT'S A BIT SHORT. IT WAS GETTING LATE AND I NEEDED TO POST. Pb XOXOXOX**

* * *


	12. Chapter 12 Moving

Chapter 12

Moving

* * *

Again I contact the place they are keeping Spencer. I still haven't talked to the person Reid seems to be confiding in. I want to talk to him. I want to…I need to make sure Spencer is going to be alright. Stupid idea I know…how can someone be alright after that. After Flanders has been at him for so long.

"I am sorry we are not at liberty to hand out information about our guests." I am told.

"I just need to make sure that he is happy." I explain….but they don't want to listen to that.

"I'm sorry sir."

"I left a message for Dr Reid's counsellor to contact me. Can you make sure he got the message please?"

"All messages are passed on sir. Goodbye." And I am holding a telephone with no one on the other end of it.

Is there a point in going over there? I know I wont be permitted to see him, but I can hand over another message for his damned Fennik guy if nothing else and so that is why I am here waiting to talk to the top man at this place to see if something cannot be arranged. Maybe telephone contact? I really don't know. So I am pacing…I do that a lot these days. I pace up and down and I drum my fingers on the legs of my pants….it helps me think somehow…I don't know how.

"Agent Hotchner?" At last someone to talk to me. A short balding man with a big smile and too many teeth. Very disconcerting. I put my hand out in offer to shake but the man just stares at it. "I am very busy…how can I help you?"

"I need to talk to someone about Dr Reid." I fold my arms. Defensive. I tried not to be but it's not easy.

"I'm sorry but you are not next of kin or in any way involved in the medical side of things so I am unable to talk to you about the case. Just have it known that he will be moved soon. I am sure someone will give you more details nearer the time."

"Excuse me? Moved?"

"The length of time spent here for people like Dr Reid is limited. He needs specialist handling. I am sure you understand."

-o-o-o-

Floyd is gone when I wake up in the morning. I don't know if this is good or bad. I don't know if he knew what was going to happen. I am hoping he didn't know because I am hoping he would have done something to stop this….but he's not here…I have no idea where he is.

"Hands." A one word command but gestures to go with it, so I put my hands out in front of me and watch as they place the cuffs around my wrists.

"What did I do?" I ask them…and I have a frown because I want to know where they are taking me.

"You don't know what you did?" The guard says it with a laugh.

"No – no – not really I don't." I just stand and look at my hands and feel a deep feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach.

Someone stepped forwards…he had a clip board in his hand and a red pen. He looked up at me and smiled. "You are Dr Spencer Reid?"

And I nod.

"Well it says here aiding and abetting murder and cannibalism. Sexual assault. Robbery – and assault of a Federal Agent. Does any of that ring a bell?" He laughed and walked off.

I am shaking my head and calling out after him. "That's not what I meant! I know why I am here…why are you putting me in restraints? Where are you taking me?" And he turns around and looks at me.

"You are filth. The very scum of the earth. It has been decided that your mental health is fine. You will be serving the rest of your time in a normal lock up." And he turns to the other guards. "Get rid of it…Get it out of my sight."

They walk me down the corridor and through the door with the bars and all the time I am expecting Floyd to turn up and put a stop to this insanity and as I step up into the back of the van I realise it just isn't going to happen.

They cuff me to the bench seat they push me down onto.

No one talks.

It's all done in some kind of strange ceremonial fashion. I want to protest and tell them they are wrong. They can't do this, but that would mean talking, and they're not going to do that. I can see. I can tell. I know.

There are two people in the front. The driver and someone sitting shotgun. Almost literally. In the back with me are two more and these aren't the orderlies from the hospital. These are harder somehow. Less hair…more muscle. Hands twitching next to the guns on their belts….and so I push up so I am sitting by the window and I keep my head down and I avoid everyone.

"Watch out for him." Someone finally says. "He might look innocent, but they don't get much lower down the scum trail than this one."

I think about defending myself but really what would be the point? They are partially correct. I did know Floyd was doing something. I always have known. Since I was a kid I knew there was something about him, but you don't turn against someone because they are sick. I didn't turn against my mum…. I wouldn't turn against Floyd. If he has done wrong it's only because I let him. Ultimately it is all my fault. I could have stopped it but at what point? When I was twelve? I couldn't have stopped him then any more than I can stop him now.

Great joy.

My own room…

And what is even better….clothes.

They don't fit very well. Jeans…held up only just by a belt of elastic. A white vest and a pale blue shirt with my number emblazoned on the left breast. A pair of trainers for my feet and a roll of toilet paper.

"Keep it safe." And still in cuffs I am lead down a corridor of barred rooms.

I have been to places like this before but always as the visitor. The Fed trying to get bits of information out of prisoners…never as the prisoner. Not like this. My room is small. One wall made entirely out of bars…The view was of a mushroom coloured wall. The room not much longer than the bed…and about two times as wide. A small toilet right in the back corner. I can hear the jeering and calling but I try to ignore it as they remove the cuffs from my hands and back out of the room.

"We are keeping you here until we can think where to put you…unless you want to spend fifteen years alone."

I don't look at them. I don't acknowledge what they just said. I just sit down on the bed and put my roll of toilet paper next to me. Wonderful. Isolation. I can see out of the corner of my eye that they stand for a short while and just look at me. They are muttering amongst themselves but I can't hear what it is being said….and really I'm not very interested.

He didn't come.

Floyd didn't come for me. I really thought he would. I don't know why…why did I expect that of him? I don't know…I do know that I have relied on him for most everything almost as far back as I can remember…and he only lets me down if he has no way of getting to me.

I push up onto the bed so that my back is against the wall and my knees are drawn up tight to my chest. I wrap my arms tightly around my legs and rest my forehead on my knees. Fifteen years.

It's funny how slowly a life can unravel. Mine was faulty from the start. With my father…and my mother's illness…and Floyd being such a big influence over everything I did. I thought he would have gone ballistic when I said I was joining the FBI – but he laughed! He thought it was so funny he laughed until he went blue around the lips and I thought he was going to die. Now looking back I think he thought it as a kind of trick we had played on the Feds….There was no way Floyd could ever get in….but me? That was too funny for him. I patted him gently on the back and looked puzzled. At the time I didn't know what was so funny. Now…now it is obvious. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I wonder if he would have encouraged me to join something like that if I hadn't been approached. We sat in the car that evening and I told him.

"I'm joining the FBI."

And he didn't ask questions….he just looked at me and raised his eyebrows and started to giggle.

He doesn't giggle often, but when he does…well…it is quite wonderful to see. This was the sort of laugh where you hold your stomach and drool and laugh until you pass out. I laughed with him…but not because my career choice was funny but because his giggle is infectious. I think he smoked a joint then…and I didn't say anything and I should have but I keep my mouth shut. I know what happens when you say the wrong thing to Floyd.

As lovely and wonderful as he is when things are good…They are awful when things are bad and I didn't want to remind him that hitting me is fun…so I keep my mouth shut…and I still do. Now I squeeze my eyes shut and try to take this place away.

I will go crazy locked up here alone for fifteen years…and they know that….they know I can't stay here…but equally they can't put me with the general population. Someone will know who I am. Some smart mouth will say…and another will kill me. Just for the job…because I was…I'm not anymore….I was a Fed.

-o-o-o-

I'm standing in the bullpen with an unopened letter in my hand.

I have to open it…it will be about Spencer…I can see the stamp on it from the hospital – if you can call it that….the stamp is on the front of the beige envelope. A big red mark which I run my finger over repeatedly. I don't know if I want to be alone when I open it or with a friend. I blink and look at it again.

Quickly I turn and walk up the few steps out of the bullpen and I stand in front of a door. The name David Rossi – is on the door. A quick tap and I walk in without awaiting an answer. He looks up at me and nods when I show him the letter in my hand.

"About Reid?" He asks me and I nod my reply.

"Do you mind?" I indicate the chair the other side of Dave's desk.

"No, no….close the door…sit down…can I get you a drink?" He probably means something stronger than the coffee up on the side but I shake my head.

"I'm good." So I sit and flip the letter over in my hands and few times…and then look up at Dave.

"Do you want me to open it?" Dave asks me…but I shake my head and slowly slide my finger under the corner of the flap. I feel so sick. My eyes have started to water and my hands are shaking. I don't think I was this scared even when Jack was born. The fear is all encompassing. My mouth has gone dry and I suddenly wish I did have a coffee. I rip the top of the envelope open and pull the two sides apart carefully. I don't remove the letter….I just sit and look at it in there.

Have my hands ever moved this reluctantly before? I slowly slip the tips of my fingers into the opening and snag the letter. I pull it out and unfurl it. I stare at the printed writing not quite able to take it in.

"Oh god." I sigh.

"Hotch?" Dave is standing now and walking around the desk towards me. I quickly fold it up again so he can't see it. The fewer people who know this the less likely it is that it has happened. "Hotch!" He takes the letter from my hand and I don't try to stop him. There is no point. Not really.

"This isn't good." I can hear Dave say.

"That place will kill him." I flick the paper with my fingers. "There has to be something we can do."

"Maximum security." I hear Dave talking to himself. "They will keep him in segregation."

I look up at Dave. "For how long? Until they can't be bothered with him anymore?"

Dave hands the letter back to me and begins his pacing. "He broke the law Hotch. You have to remember that he isn't innocent. He shielded Flanders."

I nod. I don't want to say the words….it will be too real then. "This though Dave – is this necessary?"

"Well didn't the hospital say he was impossible to handle? They couldn't keep him there? Violent outbursts and refusal to eat or take mediation?"

I nod again…it just doesn't sound like Spencer…it all sounds so wrong.

"Well Aaron – in this place they won't care if he doesn't eat….and they will beat him until he does as he is told. They don't have to be careful."

"I know. He won't survive."

Dave is rubbing at his facial hair. "Hotch – he has proved to you how deceitful he can be…how he can look to be one thing and actually be something else….he's had to survive the bullies all his life…he has good mechanisms to combat them."

"What are you saying?" I push the letter back into the envelope.

"I am saying that young Dr Reid is a liar. He will fake his way through his time. He's had lots of practice."

* * *


	13. Chapter 13 The Smash

Chapter 13

The Smash

* * *

I think I have been here all night but I haven't moved. I stayed with my head resting on my knees. I need to use the toilet, but I cant face moving off the bed. The lights which dimmed for a few hours during what was probably night time have come back on again and I can hear the calls and shouts from the other cells….but I don't move.

How long can I stay here for I wonder. Not moving.

Will they care?

I doubt it.

So I decide I will stay here and not move.

I can hear a voice. "Food." It is saying….but I'm not hungry and I don't want to look up so I keep my head down and stay where I am. The voice doesn't bother talking to me again and when I am sure the person has gone I look at the tray of food. A small plastic bowl with cereal and milk and a plastic spoon…also a plastic tumbler of fruit juice. I don't want it. I put my head back down and I think I might cry.

I'm not sad.

I believe in the system. If I am here then I deserve to be here…but I thought…I really did think that Floyd……………..

But he didn't.

The only way to tell the passing of time here is by the food trays….it appears…then goes…then another appears a while later….then that goes again too.

"Hey get up. Get over here." I am being talked to….but I still don't want to move. I am safe all the time I stay here. "Do you have a hearing problem or an attitude problem? It says you are here because of violent outbursts at the hospital." I can fell someone has sat on the bed next to me. "You need to move…get up and have a shower."

So I slowly turn my face to look at the guy and be gives me a quick nod and a pat on the shoulder and I sigh.

"Come on sonny." And he gets up again and walks to the door. "Hands." He asks for….so slowly I stand up and walk over to him. I put my hands out in front of me and with a quick push I am out in the corridor. "Your left." He tells me…so I turn and walk keeping my head down….avoiding the people in the cells….some are standing with their dark or pale fingers wrapped around the bars…interested….wanting to know who the new guy on the block is. But I don't show them my face. I don't want them to see me.

The showers.

They tell me to stop and turn around….which I do…but I still keep my head down. They take the cuffs off my wrists and place in my hands a small bar of soap, a scratchy off white towel and a change of underwear, and a small netting bag.

"When you are done…which will be about five minutes, you will put the dirty items and the towel in that bag and leave it on the hook in the showers. Understand?"

I sigh and look at the things in my hands. At least I get to shower without having to wear cuffs…we should be grateful for any bonus, but I don't feel grateful. I swallow and look up at the guard for the first time, and I don't know what it is he sees but he frowns at me and puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Do you need any help?" he asks me. Probably wondering why I'm still standing here and not doing anything.

"No – no – I will be fine." And so I turn and walk to the cubical I have been lead to. Outside is a place to put my clothes I will be putting back on again and so I slowly start to strip down. The guard stands and watches, but not in some sleazy fashion. He is just watching…making sure I do as I am told. I think I am moving very slowly. It feels as though everything is taking so long to do. All the things are awkward and difficult…I still feel drugged, but surely they have worn off by now. The thought that this is me and not the drugs hadn't crossed my mind before…now I am wondering. Maybe…maybe there is something more going on than I know about…than they know about.

The hand on my arm makes me jump.

"Are you OK?"

I look up at the voice and see a worried face.

I nod at it. "I was just thinking…you know…do they drug you here? I feel – I don't know how to describe it…slow…everything feels so slow."

The worried face smiles. "Ah you're alright…hurry up and get washed…I don't want to have to get someone in there to help you."

Help me? God no. I hold the towel around me and walk into the small shower area. Once in I place the towel over the door and turn on the water. It feel wonderful…I turn in circles under the warm spray and rub the soap over my body. Damn I wish Floyd was here now…he would like this place. He likes showers…It makes me smile as I soap my hair and try to get rid of the smell of my cell. I realise though that everything in these places smells just the same….I am replacing one prison smell with another.

"Time is up."

The words reach me through the sound of the water and so with reluctance I turn it off and grab the towel to begin drying myself.

You know…I've had a thought. I cant stay here for fifteen years. It just cant happen. One way or another I have to get out. Escape is ridiculous and so my options are limited. I can hope that Floyd does something spectacular. Like confess…that would be a start. Or maybe Hotch will come up with some way for getting me moved. Then there is the other way….and as I glance back into the cubical and pull on my clean underwear a thought comes to me. It will be quick…it will be easy. No one will care. They wont fight to bring me back…not someone like me…Not filth and scum like I am…they will be glad I did it. I run my fingers over my belt as I pull my jeans back on.

"Do I get to shower everyday?" I ask.

"No mate…Every three days. It's not like you will be doing anything to work up a sweat."

I look at him and nod. "I don't get exercise?"

And he looks sad and shakes his head as he watches me slip my shoes back on again. "Your sort don't deserve treats."

And I nod again. He is right. But that is fine….it gives me three days to prepare. It gives Hotch three days to get me out of here…it gives Floyd three days to come up with a plan. I place my dirty things in the net bag and place it over the hook…the small amount of soap I have left is taken from me and put in a container.

"They recycle it for you lot."

Wonderful. Secondhand soap.

"My lot? What exactly is my lot?" I ask

But I don't get an answer. "Off you go please…back to your cell."

The walk back was uneventful. Again I kept my head down and ignored the hands now reaching through the bars for me….the calls out of what they wanted to do to me. I laughed on the inside and wondered if it would make my life easier if I was in with the general population. At least it would be over with quickly. Until then I will sit here on my bed….I will keep my back to the wall….I will plan how I am going to kill myself.

I have three more days.

Sorry mum

-o-o-o-

They've moved him.

I stand and look at the front of the building with such a fury in my heart that I think it might kill me.

I need Spencer.

And they have taken him from me.

"I am sorry Fennik." I am told. "If you want to see Reid you will have to contact the prison."

The one place I cant go. The one place I cant get him out of. So I am sitting here astride my bike…someone's bike….at the side of the road and I am looking at the front of the building. The place he had been in…where I could go and fuck him and keep him safe…and they bloody moved him.

I can feel someone is watching me. Probably some lust filled kid….

Today…..

…………..today I am wearing……light blue denims…..and lace up boots….I am wearing a green….you will like this…floral shirt. Short sleeves…and baggy…open at the neck…I feel hot…too hot and I don't like it…things are going wrong. I have a necklace on…it's a dog tag with Spencer's name engraved on it. I put my hand over it and take a deep breath….My hair is down today…not tied back…I am a mess…I know that…which is probably why I am being looked at.

I move my head up and turn it and look across the street straight into the eyes of Aaron Hotchner.

"Ah shit." I turn the ignition on the bike and glance across the street again. He is standing there watching me…trying to work out if I am who he thinks I am. Trying to figure it all out in his little head….and I can almost hear the cogs of reasoning all lining up inside that tiny brain of his.

I raise my hand in a friendly 'fuck you' gesture as I flip him the bird and push the bike stand up with the heel of my boot.

There are cars rushing by in both directions…and even though his gun is beginning to come out of his holster I know I am safe. I present him with a lovely big toothy grin as I begin to scoot the bike away from where I had it parked….and it happens…and it happens so fast that at first my brain doesn't comprehend it.

-o-o-o-

I can see him….

That is the only thought in my head.

I can see him….

And this time I will get him….I wont let him get away.

I can see him….

And I draw my side arm and pull my cell phone out of my pocket.

"Morgan. Flanders is here……" and I am talking to Morgan…and I am pointing my gun at Flanders….between his eyes, this time I will take his head off and I walk forwards.

-o-o-o-

The kids are fighting in the back of the car….shut up shut up shut up…don't I have enough of this crap all day…. "Cool it kids." I snap at them…but they still fight…Jules and Tilly…fight fight all day bloody long they fight….and now I am late back from the store and Ronnie will be mad with me as I wont be home when he gets in and damn…another fucking black eye for me….

"Shut the fuck up!"

Yell at the kids…they are only …hey…they are teenagers…they shouldn't be fighting like this…

Crap…the phone is going…

"Someone get the phone for fucks sake." I throw my bag over the seat onto the lap of the kids…the cell is chiming the tune from an 80's TV show. "Hurry up…it might be dad…….."

And I turn…I turn to see if they are doing what I tell them…and so I'm not looking…but it wouldn't have made a difference anyway.

I couldn't have stopped.

There was nothing I could do!

I feel the impact and see it out of the corner of my eye. I turn back as I slam my foot on the brake and the windscreen is shattered….I am skidding out of control….

"FUCK FUCK FUCK!" I scream….and the car has a body draped across the hood…..and there is blood and something ….another car….is slamming into the side…and the kids are screaming…and the thing on the hood falls off and something slams into my rear end and….shit…oh shit oh shit oh shit……..

The world ends.

-o-o-o-

It was over so fast that I am still sitting here looking at where Hotchner had been standing before the car hit him and my mind is wondering where the hell he went. He was pointing his fucking gun at me. I turn the bike off and put it back on the stand…and I dismount and slowly walk over to the steaming mess in the road….four…five cars all ploughed into each other…somewhere under all of that is Hotchner….and my curiosity has definitely gotten the better of me.

And the chance to see dead things….

Ahh……a happy day……so I walk slowly across the road and my head is slightly to one side as I block out the sounds of screaming and car horns and someone is grabbing me but I don't even look at who it is I just push them away from me. "Don't touch me." I say and keep walking.

It's a mess and somewhere under this mess is Hotchner. I need to decide….I have choices…and I have to start making decisions….I have to plan what I am going to do when I find him…I see …there on the floor I see his gun…and I pick it up and place it down the side of my jeans….I make a mental promise to get rid of it as soon as I can. He must be near by….he has to be. So I go down onto my hands and knees and look under the cars….and there is a puddle of ooze…there is a dark form under the first car…the one that hit him…so I crawl towards it.

This looks bad…it looks very bad….his head is bleeding….his eyes are open…so I reach out and touch him. "Hotchner." I say to him…but he doesn't react…he could die…he's not dead yet…I can see the way his chest is moving….but he is well mangled.

I crawl closer under the car with him and touch his face. "Hotchner." I say again. "You want me to leave you or help you? I need you to say." But I don't think he is going to be able to say. I have to think…what would Spencer want me to do?

"Fuck it." I curse and move around so that I am behind him and I put my hands under his arms and start to drag him out from under the smashed cars. "I could kill you. I could snap your neck and no one would know the difference. But I need you….Spencer needs you." I drag him out and then crouch down next to him. People are still screaming…I don't know if it is the people who saw the accident or the people trapped and dying.

His legs are smashed…and I know in people like this that could be the killer….I have to keep him alive. I need him to get Spencer out of jail…as much as I'm not going to enjoy this I will have to work with him, and this might be my chance….my opportunity to redeem myself for past transgressions….I'm not sure how forgiving he is.

So I am here with my hand on his chest and I am talking quietly to him. "You're gonna be ok." I tell him…and he will…I will make sure of it….he is breathing…his heart is beating he will be fine as long as the ambulance gets here quickly.

It takes a lot out of me you see. I have to take my energy…and part of my own being and give it to Hotchner…and he is hurting…I know that much so it's best he stays out of it for now…he wouldn't want to feel the pain he is in. But to keep him under…and to take his pain….and to keep his heart beating for him…it's draining…I can see my hand is shaking with the effort.

"Where the fuck are the EMT's!" I shout… "I need some help here!"

And it arrives…in the shape of Derek Morgan's boot in my face. I feel a physical wrenching as I am forced away from Hotchner. Then the kicking starts…and I cant do anything to stop it.

-o-o-o-

I don't know what he has done to Hotch….but for now he still seems to be alive….the EMT's are with him and I am kicking the shit out of Flanders. I will fucking kill him. I promise I will. He doesn't seem to have any fight in him as my boot catches him in the chest….I hear the sound of the air being forced from his lungs…I see the shocked look on his face….and I see someone I am going to keep kicking until he is dead unless someone stops me. And no one is yet. Over and over I stomp down on him. I feel ribs give way under my foot and all he is doing is failing weakly at my leg…his eyes are wide and he is trying to say something to me….trying to communicate….

I see Hotch lifted and put onto a gurney and needles and crap stuck into his arms…

"He is a Federal Agent!" I shout out and the look over to me and give me a signal that they heard me and so I go back to kicking the animal at my feet. He hasn't tried to get away. He's hardly moved. I'm not sure why….but he is saying something to me and so like the idiot I am I lean in to hear what his dying words are.

"Here nigger….have this." And he passes me a hand gun. "It's Hotchner's….he dropped it." His words are slurred and mumbled but I get what he said and I snatch the weapon from him…why didn't he use it?

I kick him until he shuts up…I kick him until there is blood.

-o-o-o-

I sleep…still sitting on the bed...

I wake up screaming.

* * *


	14. Chapter 14 Taking it Back

Chapter 14

Taking it Back

* * *

So I have three days to prepare myself.

One of the first things I ask for is something so I can write a couple of letters…three letters…not one for each day. Actually maybe I need to write four.

Gideon – I want to explain why this happened…though I think he knows.

Hotch – I need to apologise and say my farewells.

Mum – I want to send her my final chatter message. I don't need to tell her what is going on though. She doesn't need to know.

Floyd – A letter…A goodbye and a promise. A love letter I suppose you could call it.

But I need to be careful. I don't want them guessing my plan. I will write them all on the final day…and then it will be too late by the time they read them. Until then I will plan in my mind what I will say to the people I love.

I will have to assume that the routine will be the same…and I will be in the same shower. The head of the shower will be just right. I can tie the belt around my neck…in the water it will obviously become sodden and virtually impossible to undo again. I don't think…I probably mentioned this…but I don't think they will be in a hurry to save me. I will have five minutes and that is ample time to kill myself in. The belt around my neck…and around the shower head…You will be amazed how useful learning your knots can be throughout your life. I don't know what they are all called. Did I ever? How could I have forgotten? I'm not permitted to forget things…my mind wont let me…every nasty sordid detail of my life is recorded up there…everything except the names of knots it would seem….and I briefly wonder if there are actually other things I might have forgotten…Well that's something I will never know. For now I will plan this….I will go to the shower and I will keep the towel around me…and I will have to sneak the belt off my jeans and into the shower with me. I will slip it quickly around my neck. Mentally I will do this a thousand times over so when it happens it is quick. I will then half tie the loop on the other then…turn on the water…hold onto the shower head and pull myself up…slip the loop over and let go. Elastic belt…I am aware of that…but I will ensure I wont fail. I cant fail.

So I am sitting here and I go over it again and again in my head….and as I think about it one hand is playing over my neck…and I am feeling where the belt will dig in and cut off my supplies…the other hand skims quickly over my belt…over and over again

Three days.

I watch as a food tray slides under my door.

"Excuse me." I say and I stand up.

The guy stops and looks at me. "Yes?"

"I need to write some letters. Is there a way that can be organised?"

"I'll see what I can do."

And he turns and walks away….I move to the bars and I find my fingers are wrapping around them and my forehead is resting against them and I need to get out. I need so desperately for someone to understand…realise what happened…and let me out. I need Floyd. Where the hell is Floyd?

-o-o-o-

"Stop….for fucks sake stop kicking me you fucking bastard."

He's not going to….so I shut up…I curl up as small as I can and let him kick me. I don't know what's happened to Hotchner but really I should try to stay with him…but this stupid ape isn't going to let me and so I keep my arms around my head now trying to keep as many kicks away from my face and head as I can.

Someone stop him …in the name of G'hazahagard….who you have probably never heard of, but in his name…fucking stop hitting me!

When it finally does stop I am expecting cuffs to go on my hands….but they don't. Nothing actually happens. I open my eyes a crack and realise I have been kicked up against the wheels of a truck which stopped suddenly and somewhat fatally in the middle of the street. My back is pressed hard against the tyre and I am surrounded by boxes of some sort of sports drink and some crates of tomatoes which fell from somewhere…they sky? The back of the truck? I don't know…but they are forming like a wall of sorts around me. He's kicked me to the side with the other (?) rubbish. I rub at my nose and reach into my pocket for some pills…scrunch on those Floyd…they will make you feel better.

This has got to stop.

This whole load of shit has got to stop. I want to curl up tighter but I cant. I want to lay on my bed and form a Floyd ball and scream….but I cant do that either. Morgan will be back for me and so I have again choices to make.

I can heal up quick like….but to do that I need to retrieve that which I gave Hotch…or I can heal naturally…and that is going to hurt. So decision made I push myself up to my knees and then carefully using the crates I am on my feet. I blink a few times attempting to get my eyes to focus, but they don't want to do that….I guess I have concussion. My best bet it to just walk…this bleeding beaten lump of a person…walk to the ambulances. Morgan cant do anything if I am there unless it's legal.

Someone touches me on my back and I stop trying to move and just stand leaning on the boxes and I close my eyes. "Sir…please sit down…I will get someone to help you."

"I'm ok….I need…I – erm…the feds…where did they go?"

"Who?"

"The ni….the….the guy who I pulled out from under the car….and his little dusky friend." She still looks puzzled. "Don't worry."

"Please sit down sir. I will get someone over here. Where you hit by something."

I lower myself to a crate of something and glace up at her. "You could say that. Yeah…I was hit by something."

And in this way does a half truth become a fact.

She called someone over who was more than happy to touch me and inspect me and find where I was hurt.

"Can you walk? I would like to get you taken in for some X-rays." And I look at her. Does this mean I will be in the same hospital as Hotchner? It's a good bet…I'll take up the offer of a lift to the hospital…The bike…well what the fuck it's not mine anyway…I'll just get another when I've done what I need to do at the hospital. It's going to be busy. Carnage! Wonderful! And I didn't do it…I might have been part of the cause…but all this death ….this is Hotchner's doing. I'm going to enjoy telling him.

"I can try to walk." I say in my most pathetic voice – and the two whores who I can smell want me half carry me to an awaiting vehicle which will speed me onwards closer to my prey – I mean closer to Hotchner and Morgan.

-o-o-o-

I am given two bits of paper and a pencil. A disposable retracting one…orange plastic.

"Thank you." I say.

And I lay on the bed with my head on the pillow and I put my new treasures under it and slide my hand under to keep my fingers in contact with it. Almost as though it will disappear if I don't keep reminding it that I know it is there.

I don't want to write my messages yet. I don't want them –them being the guards – reading what I write and guessing my plan. One hand protectively on the paper and pencil…and the other plays with my belt. I should stop. I don't want them to see me doing that….they might realise what I am going to do. I cant have them interfere with my plan………………………..

And so I close my eyes as the lights dim and hopefully I will sleep. I would like to sleep until it is time to shower again….or die in my sleep. That would solve a lot of problems. There would be no blame and no guilt. It would just be done.

I'm not that lucky.

Someone shaking me is what wakes me up….

"Hey you!"

someone is shouting at me…and I roll over and look up at the faces of a huddle of guards standing in my room. "What?" did I sleep until showertime?

"You were screaming."

"I have – have nightmares." I suck in my bottom lip and have a chew on it. "I'm sorry."

They don't talk to me again they just back out and close and lock the door again and walk off. I have no idea what the time is…but the lights are still dimmed. I slide my hand under my pillow again and check on the paper and pencil. Thank the gods of Pluto – as Floyd would say – they are still there.

And suddenly I am crying…and I don't know why. I'm not sad – I'm not cross and I'm not scared. I think I am just lonely. I just want to see him one last time. I want to hold him and curl up with him…and smell that smell.

I spend my day reciting things in my head….lists…useless lists of things I have made in the past…things to take my mind of all else.

Pace….I walk from the bars to the back wall and back again…turning so swiftly sometimes that my head spins and I almost want to fall and hit my head and die. It would solve the problems. It would get me out of the way…

"I'm nothing…I'm scum…I'm filth….I'm filth….I'm filth." And I cant say anything else because I have started with the crying again. I wish I knew why…though this time…now….as I am…like a caged animal…back and forth…pacing, pacing, pacing…I cant stay here…I cant…I will….I will go mad. I will lose my mind…

"I will lose my mind!"

Did I just shout that…It feels…you know…it feels as though I shouted that. So I sit down on my bed and put my back hard against the wall and curl up and hold myself together and rock gently back and forth….back and forth….let me out…let me out…. "let me out let me out letmeout letmeout letmeoutletmeoutletmeoutLETMEOUT!"

Someone is shouting at me to shut up. I didn't realise I was talking….I let myself slide sideways and watch the tray slide under the door…but I wont be eating and they wont care. All I care about is the paper and pencil under my pillow.

-o-o-o-

I don't remember what happened…but I know Flanders was there…and the feeling is very strange. It is almost as though the man has his hand inside my chest and is keeping me alive. I can feel him there…sense him inside me…

It feels as though my soul….my spirit...the thing which makes me who I am has been raped. Someone is talking to me and a cold cloth is placed over my brow.

"……gent Hotchner?" I catch the end of it and I blink back the enormous amount of pain I am in and look at the doctor standing at the side of my bed. "Agent Hotchner?" The voice repeats…and I lick my dry lips and try to move my arms and look at my hands but I cant move. "Don't try to move." I am told. Too late. I have tried and nothing happened.

"What? What happened?" my voice is dry and rough and my throat is sore. "A drink?" I ask.

And the doctor places a cold white waxed paper straw at my lips and allows me to suck some of the lovely water into my mouth. I don't swallow it at first. I let it lay there…soaking in. I slosh it around my teeth and bath my tongue in it…then slowly I swallow.

"You were hit by a car." I am told, but I don't remember. What I remember is seeing Flanders….I remember walking across the road to talk to him, at least trying to. I don't remember anything else. Vague background memories of Flanders talking to me….touching me…taking away some of my pain. Helping me? He could have killed me in the street but he helped me. "You were lucky…a passerby gave you first aid at the scene, but you have a broken left shin and your right arm just below the elbow."

"A passer-by? Where is he…I would like to say thank you."

"Hotch." Morgan's voice. "Thank god you're awake." I look at him and I can see the worry etched across his face.

"Morgan…Flanders."

He puts a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry Hotch. I took care of him."

"He was helping me."

But Morgan isn't listening…I watch him rub his hands together. "He is the reason Reid is locked up. He might have helped you…but for what reason?"

Thinking though is hard…my head hurts…and I just need to sleep. "Find him." I mumble as sleep and drugs take hold of me again and I slide back into a world with no pain or light.

-o-o-o-

I have to get to see Hotchner…and it's not that hard to do. I need to take back what I gave him…he wont need it now. He will be OK now. I don't even know why I did it. I refuse to let the reason be that Spencer would have wanted me to do it.

I don't do favours.

I don't know why I did it.

They have left me in my cubical. They have cleaned me up…told me I have a broken rib…and it is bound up and I am feeling too hot…much too hot…fucking hate hospitals I do. So I move away…I don't know what I am waiting for…they put some stitches in…they clipped bits of ripped flesh back together again…and I have a horrible feeling that Morgan knows I am here…I have to move…and find Hotchner and get my self whole again…then I can try to help Spencer…

Damnit…all too much…all too fucking much.

They – these agents – they need to learn to trust me. Will Hotchner now? Now that part of me is in him…it makes me feel ill to think about it. I am sure I have gone a strange shade of green…Fifth floor…I know he is up there…easy to find…because I am there too…with him…A deep breath…a quick deep breath…punching the button for the fifth floor and the door slide shut and I want to scream and cry and attack and eat and fuck….but I have to stay in control…I have to do this for Spence. I need him. My finger runs over the dog tag. "I need you." I whisper to myself.

'PING'

And the door opens…the corridor is far from empty but I cant see Morgan from where I am standing. Home run…Free…so here I am moving fast…and through the door…

Hotchner is laying on the bed and a nurse is with him…taking his temperature. "Is he going to make it?" I ask almost as though I give a shit.

She turns and looks at me. "He is battered and broken…but he will mend. Are you a friend." And I shake my head slowly.

"He has something of mine." And as I walk forwards I see the sunshine glinting through the window. "I just want to talk to him." I tell her…and she nods and starts to walk off as I stand next to the bed and look at the sleeping form.

"We have to help Spencer." I tell him. "I would confess to what I did, but I don't know if that will help him any." I run a finger over his chest. "It might make things worse for him…if they know for sure what I did." I pick up a hand. "This might hurt…I have to take it back again. I need it." I don't know if he understands me but he squeezes my hand and I think he does. Somewhere deep inside I think he understands.

So I put his hand down and I lay both hands on his chest.

I am concentrating…

………..that is why it happened……..

part of me wasn't there at all…and another chunk was concentrating.

Thus I didn't realise something was wrong until the hands grabbed me. One on my collar and one on the back of my jeans. I feel my feet leaving the floor and I feel a strange sucking sensation as I am once again ripped away from Hotchner….and a weird swinging then I am flying…back first…through the air. I can see Morgan's face as my already bruised body smacks against the window….I can see my own shadow as the grinding popping sound lets me know that the force has taken the window out of it's housing….well at least the glass part of it…and I'm not stopping….I'm not sliding to the floor…I am carrying on…out of the window…and slowly…in slow motion…I spin…and fall…and spin…and I put my hands out and I can feel the rough stone of the wall under my fingers….Then there is void…and I can see the sky.

It is a lovely sunny day and I can feel, as I slam into car which had been carefully parked in the bay that it has heated up the metal - I can feel the heat against my skin…and I think my skull sort of exploded. I'm not sure…but I did hear my spine snap….and my head is definitely at a funny angle….But yes…they sky is really very fucking lovely blue.

For a few seconds I hear people scream…

Then silence.

* * *


	15. Chapter 15 Letters

Chapter 15

Letters

* * *

Dear Aaron.

I need to apologise for everything.

Hopefully now it will be over.

I know you cared for me but it just wasn't the sort of caring I needed. Please don't visit me. I really don't want you to do that. I will make arrangements another way.

Could you please though get with Floyd and go through my things at the apartment. Take what you want. I won't be needing it anymore.

Thank you for everything.

I am sorry I couldn't be what you wanted.

Spencer.

-o-o-o-

Mum,

Thought I would drop you a quick line to let you know that everything is going well. I will try to visit you soon, but you know how I am for visits.

I need you to know that I am safe and well and happy.

Hope to see you soon.

Spencer.

XXX

-o-o-o-

Gideon.

I don't know why I am writing this to you. I guess in a way it is because I never got to say my goodbyes properly before.

I know things went bad.

I know it was hard.

I still feel I deserved better than you handed out.

Never mind that now though. I love you….loved you…you took me and nurtured me through a lot of the rubbish I was going through…a lot of the stuff Floyd was away for, for one reason or another. You would have liked him Jason, in another time…under different circumstances you would have liked him. He has been there for me more than any other living being. From when I was a child until now. The only times he has been away and has been unable to help were times when he couldn't. Fish hearts and livers. I knew as soon as Tobias told me what he was burning that I was in trouble!

It has come now though…the time to end it all. My life is pointless now. I keep going. I cant live here forever….locked alone in a cell…already I can feel things are slipping away from me…I've only been here a few days…what will be left of me after fifteen years? What if they decide to put me in general population and my mind is already going…I cant face it Jason….I cant have that happen. I don't want that to happen to me.

Get together with Floyd. Talk to him…and listen to him. I know you don't like him. But you don't have to…just listen to him…

Thank you for teaching me.

Thank you for showing me….sometimes running away is the only way.

Spencer

XX

-o-o-o-

Floyd

Please forgive me. I never wanted to hurt you. You have been the only constant in my life.

I am sorry.

Take me and love me as I know you would want.

Spence.XX

-o-o-o-

Carefully I write each….in the neatest writing I can with my hand shaking so much…There are tears falling on Floyd's letter. I hope Gideon tracks him down and listens. I want him to understand better than I can ever explain.

Each note is then torn from the one above or below it. I don't have enough paper so they can't have a bit each. I look at the ragged edges and then run my finger slowly along. They won't mind. They will understand. I'm not sure mum will understand, but she would have forgotten by the following day anyway so in the end it doesn't matter. Not really.

Each bit I then fold carefully and place under my pillow. Hopefully they will find them easily enough. Hopefully….

Tomorrow…..

I get up off the bed and hold the pencil in my hand….I wonder how easy it would be to take my life with it. I could, I'm sure I could…but I wont. That isn't what I have planned. I place the pencil on my bed and I start to pace. Wondering…wondering when I last ate something. I can't remember, but strangely I'm not hungry or thirsty. I stand for a short while and look down at the stainless steel toilet. I can avoid using it if I don't eat or drink. I give it a quick smile and then walk away from it. I won that fight at least.

Then I resume my pacing…back and forth back and forth….

Someone walks by…another prisoner…back from his shower…his hair is wet. I stop pacing and watch him…he looks so free…I want to be the other side of the bars too. My fingers have wrapped around them again and I am rocking slowly back and forth again…always moving….cant keep still….tomorrow…

Tomorrow…it will be over…One more day…just hold on for one more day.

My fingers brush along the fabric of my belt and I let out a long sigh of relief.

Am I really as bad as these others….these serial killers and rapists and child molesters…am I as bad as these guys who beat their wives to death with their bare hands….and I think of the chilli Floyd would cook for me…and I squeeze my eyes shut. Not asking…pretending it isn't happening doesn't mean it didn't. All that blood….so much blood I washed from his clothes…from his hair…tasted behind his fingernails…licked from his skin. I am as bad as these.

I deserve this.

I shielded him…I more than shielded him. I probably actively encouraged it. Maybe…I don't know…

Why am I here…? "Why am I here!" I try to open the door of bars. "Let me out! I need to talk to someone…you can't keep me here!"

And my reply is laughter.

So I slide to the floor and look out of my cell…Tomorrow. Deep breaths Spencer.

Tomorrow.

-o-o-o-

"What?"

"Did you throw the victim out of the window?"

"Yes! Hell yes! I thought he would bounce."

"You are under arrest…Derek Morgan for the attempted murder of Floyd Flanders………"

The rest of my Miranda rights being read become a blur….attempted murder of Flanders? Are they saying he is still alive? He fell that far and survived? I can feel the cuffs being put on my wrists and I still cant quite believe what is going on. After all of this…After everything…it is me getting arrested? How the hell did this happen?

"Hotch." I say…but there is nothing he can do…he is laying looking at me…almost accusingly… "Do something Hotch…Tell them that the sonofabitch was killing you!"

But he says nothing…I don't know if it is because he cannot…or will not. "Hotch!" and the cops here who were assigned to protect and serve the cops who let Flanders through…those same cops are escorting me from the room…and I can hear the faint sounds of sirens and shouting…and crying…for Flanders.

-o-o-o-

At some point food has arrived…and a drink…but I don't see it arrive. Actually I don't even know it is there until someone says something to me.

"You have to eat at some point."

And I look up as the tray is removed and I was going to say something to him…but then realised I have to be careful.

"Tomorrow." Is what I say in the end and then turn and look out of the bars again.

"Whatever." Is his intelligent reply.

I cant stand this…I cant stay here….damn I could do this today…I could do it from here…on these bars. Tonight. It's not like I'm on suicide watch or anything…and at least I will be clothed.

Standing up I run my hands over the bars. There is a place I could do this from but I cant guarantee how much time I will have. I stand leaning on them and looking out at the wall the other side of the corridor. If I do it tonight though there will probably be less people on duty. I could time it…I could time it for when they change over duty. They will walk by my cell…and – well do whatever it is they do when they first come on duty….go through the lists I suspect. Catch up …and make coffee. I should have at least fifteen minutes. Again I run my hand over the upper bar and start to make calculations in my head of how I am going to do this.

I test it. I make sure I can take my body weight – holding myself off the floor until I have the belt in position. I need to do it quickly and so now I stand at the bars and I let my foot play along the bars and my fingers touch my neck and the bars and my belt and I feel so in control. I am making this decision – and I am on hundred percent in control of what happens. Floyd cant stop me. Hotch cant talk me out of it. Morgan cant inform on me.

……..and it will be over reasonably quickly.

-o-o-o-

I'm laying on the grass…I can smell where it has been crushed under me….that sweet smell.

Someone is talking to me but for some reason I cant understand the words and I don't seem to be able to open my eyes. I want to say something…I try opening my mouth but there is something in the way…A tube down my throat and it stops me from talking.

A hand is touching my cheek and again I try to open my eyes but not now…I cant yet….A terrific pain in my chest but nowhere else.

"Can you hear me?"

I heard that.

"Floyd? Are you Floyd?"

I hear that too….but …..I cant answer….not yet…. Go away…leave me….let me….let me heal…get it out of me…this thing…I don't need it…And I am trying to lift my arms to my face but they wont move.

"Don't try t move."

I understand that. I can hear that.

And I want to open my eyes…I need to know where I am….the smell of grass…no…not grass….it's not grass I can smell…

The sweet smell of blood…my blood…I can smell my blood…but I cant feel anything. I can hear something…a soft sound…and I know that sound…the tube is breathing for me.

"Floyd?"

A male voice now…a different voice. "I am going to remove the tape from your eyes." I feel hands on my face. "It might sting." How long have I been here? It doesn't hurt…nothing external seems to hurt…I slowly open my eyes and look up at a worried face looking back down at me. "We are helping you breath Floyd. Don't worry….dont fight it." I want to scream but I cant move. "You have hurt your neck and spine. We have strapped you down. Do you understand."

I look around me. I can see the tube lighting on the ceiling. I want to move….but I cant…they strapped me down…that's why…not because I cant.

"You had a letter on you. Would you like it delivered?"

My letter…I wrote a letter to Spence. Again…I did it again…How fucking stupid can one person be in one life time. I need the words back…I look at the person and try out a frown…but I don't think anything happened. Derek Morgan broke my fucking neck. I will kill him. I will fucking skin that shitty black hide of his…I will….I will….Things are going dark….and I can hear alarms sounding off and the pain is so fucking much I want to tell them to just bloody leave it…leave me…let me go…let me die…but they are zapping at my chest and hands are over mouths…they look shocked…my heart has stopped but apart from the sudden dimming…I am still with it…Send him the letter….let him have the letter. I want to file charges against the FBI…I was helping…I was fucking helping.

-o-o-o-

I have decided that I will stand on the very edge of my bed. I have removed my shoes…and I have practiced balancing on the edge. I can just reach….now I have to sit and wait. My final plate has gone…and so I sit on the bed with my back pressed against the wall and my arms holding tight. I made my hands into fists and I rest my head and I wait.

I don't pray.

I say silent goodbyes in my head.

I imagine being with Floyd…being touched by him and held by him and being loved. He might never say it…but I know it.

I hear the guard walk by they cell. I hear the muffled chatter as they change duties…and I slide my belt out of my belt loops and hold it on my lap. I count to fifty. I don't know why fifty…it just seemed like a good number during the planning stages…and I have to stick to my plan. I have to end this.

…………so I tie it around my neck and I pull it tight and to the side. I stand on the very edge of the metal bed frame. I can feel it cold on my skin. I reach up and slide the other end through the place on the bars…and I pull tight….already I can feel my blood supply is being altered. I feel light headed and…and I feel happy as I step off the bed. My feet don't touch the floor…My body slams against the bars…and it worked.

I would like to say I saw the light…I would like to say that my life flashed before my eyes…that I heard angels signing…anything…but I didn't. I hear the blood rushing in my ears…I hear my heart pounding faster and faster and my god it hurts…I want it to stop…

And it does.

* * *

**A/N: THE RIGHT PLACE TO END THIS CHAPTER….MORE TOMORROW. THANK YOU.**

* * *


	16. Chapter Another Letter

Chapter 16

Another Letter

* * *

dear speNce

I've not forgotten you.

Wait for me.

I will come for you.

Floydx

-o-o-o-

The nurse looked at the letter. She read it a few times and then placed it in a tray with other things taken from Flanders' pockets. Not much. The man travelled light. There was a crushed box of cigarettes…but the contents were not the originals…these were hand rolled things. There was a small thin silver lighter. It worked. He had a set of dog tags around his neck –they were silver and had the name 'Spencer' engraved on them. This is what made them think that the letter should be delivered. If they could find out who this 'Spencer' person was…and maybe that Fed who tried to kill Flanders would know.

She wondered if it was a lovers squabble. The man in the bed was Aaron…so it wasn't him. She would find out. For now the letter went in the tray of belongings which sat on a shelf next to the man's bed. He had a neck brace and was on a spinal board. They were trying to keep him sedated, but he was fighting it…he had enough sedatives in him to knock out an elephant but he was still awake.

Someone had tried to kill this man by throwing him out of a window…she stood and looked at him and wondered what he could have done to deserve such treatment. Carefully she wiped a stray strand of hair off his face.

"The police are going to want to talk to you, but I'm afraid if we remove the tube too soon your lungs will forget to work."

He understands I think…he is looking at me and he looks…not afraid as most men would but pissed off…he looks angry.

"They arrested him. He cant come for you again. You don't need to worry. You have police guards on your door too."

-o-o-o-

But they are to stop me getting away…to keep me here…not to keep Morgan out. The bastard will be back and now he knows how to incapacitate me he will try again. He might be stupid but he will figure this out. I want the letter delivered…they asked me then didn't do it…I want the tube removed, but I don't think that will happen yet. Fuck it all…I was helping…I wont…I wont ever again…not until that arse has been punished for this. Hotchner saw…he knows what he did. So I bite down on the tube….and my jaw is powerful…more so than you would ever imagine…I faintly hear the alarms going off as they come hurtling back into my room to see what the hell I am doing to my airway.

Finally someone decides to remove the tube. "Cough." I am told – which I do…and that's better. Someone kindly – they are a nice lot here…feeling sorry for me they are; someone gets me a drink of water…but they don't look happy.

"Floyd." And a hand touches my face. "Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

Saying to me? She said something to me? I try the frown again but its not working…I try to talk…and that's only just going to work. "Yes." And my voice is very croaky and feels like I've have a tube stuffed down my throat…I wonder why that is?

I try to take in a deep breath….and fuck it hurts like…like my chest has been crushed….but all the pain is internal…if that makes sense…my muscles, my bones, my flesh….that doesn't hurt….my heart, my lungs, my soul…is in agony.

"The police need to talk to you."

So I blink at them….no point in trying to talk.

They stand around my bed with sad faces and I want to tell them to fuck off…but when I try it hurts too much to talk so I just sigh….and that hurts too.

They want to know if I am going to press charges and I think my eyes convey any information they need there. They nod and write notes. They want me to try to tell them what I was doing with Agent Hotchner.

And I sigh again. "He – he is…." And I start to cough and alarms go off and the doctors and nurses run back in again and that strange dimming happens again as the paddles are put on my chest and the pain is enormous but….somehow…damn it's good…in a sexual healing sort of way…it charges every nerve ending in my body.

The crowd disperses and the cops have gone…I lay and look at the ceiling and listen to the voices in the background. "If he makes it through the night he might have a chance." I hear. "The damage is too extensive for us to be able to even guess…but I think it is likely that murder charges will be……………….." and the voices fade away again…

I'm not dying…I know…I have enough of me left to heal a bit…I got some back off Hotchner…just not all of it…so it will be slower…and the alarms are going off again………………….

-o-o-o-

I want to talk to him…I want to know what in hells name happened. I want to know how Aaron was given first aid at the scene by him….I need to know why Morgan attacked him…I have to know what happened in that room if I am to help Derek.

I stand as the alarms go off again…this if the forth time his heart has stopped. They don't think he is going to make it….too much internal damage and for the first time concerning this guy – I need him to live. If he dies Morgan will be in worse trouble. I lean on the wall in the hospital room and watch the way his body jerks on the table. He is strapped down…his spine snapped…his neck broken…the chances that he will ever move again if he survives this at all are so slim as to be negligible. I run my hands over my face and close my eyes. I need to go and check on Hotch.

And time just stretches on and on….

"Sorry he is sleeping." I am told when I need to talk to Aaron.

"Sorry sir he is dying." I am told when I need to see Flanders.

"Sorry…we are awaiting his lawyer." I am told when I want to talk to Morgan.

I stand and watch as they pull Flanders back once more and then walk away to find somewhere to get a half decent coffee.

-o-o-o-

I hate this duty….they men are either asleep or being noisy and annoying….too quiet or too noisy. I top up the coffee machine and grab a mug…I'm just turning when I hear it. A thump. Quite loud from one of the cells, but I turn up my iPod ….if there is more noise I'm not going to hear it for a while…I've got a paperback to read once I've filled in my sheets for the night.

There are some cells I need to watch occasionally…the big guy right down the end…he's been ill…I have to make sure he's OK…but I have a while before I need to. And the Fed…he's not eating…I need to check on him at the same time. He was sleeping on my way down though….

What was that?... I stand up from my desk and put down the pen I have in my hand ready to tick the boxes I need……Something feels wrong. I check my baton and swig back some more coffee….I and do without noise tonight…I have a headache coming on.

There is a sound…behind the rock thumping of my iPod there is another sound…and I don't like it. For a second I think I should sit down and ignore it….but it's getting louder…the men are chanting something…

Slowly with shaking hands I pull the buds out of my ears and stand to listen.

"Die Die Die Die." They are all calling it….

"Oh god…not a suicide…not on my watch."

My legs are shaking ….my hands are shaking…I pull the iPod off totally and throw it into the desk drawer…the coffee mug I place down…and slowly I start to walk down the corridor…the wall brushing my uniform sleeve as I try to keep as far from these monsters as I can.

I can see what the problem is immediately…I cant work out who it is at first…the panic in my brain is making me confused….I slap the emergency button on the wall and walk quickly….I'm not running for these guys….to the cell…I would open the door but the locking system means I have to leave him hanging and go back again. I can hear the buzz buzz buzz of the alarm ringing down in the main den as I put my hand in through the bars and touch him.

"Shit." I don't know if he's dead or not…I'm going to have to get him out…I go quickly back down to the security office and grab the pass key…and the list…I need to check which creep this………..oh fuck…it's the Fed.

I'm running now….back again…as the doors the other end burst open and armed men rush through.

"We've got a hanger!" I shout out and move to the cell… "Someone hold him or something." I need to get the door open…and he has tied his belt around the bars at the top of the door and the wall…effectively holding the door shut even when unlocked.

Rocky Timpson has his arms through the bars holding him against the side…If its taking pressure off his neck or not I don't know…I don't care…I don't give a shit…I only don't want him dead cos I get a mark against my name if he doesn't make it.

I try to get the knot undone…but where he's been hanging….cant be more than fifteen minutes…but he's pulled it too tight…. "Someone….someone cut him down for christ's sake!" I am getting pissed … "And someone get the medics…" I stand back as Ted Walberg gets out his knife and starts to slice though the belt….all the time in the background the constant shouts of the other prisoners banging on the bars and shouting… "die die die…." What a fucking mess. Rocky lets go of him as the belt pings apart in two bits and he falls to the floor in a horrible dead looking heap.

"Why this one? Why the hell this one?" I can pull the door and slide it across now and I step into the cell. As guards we have no orders to give first aid….it's not in our contract so I kick him over onto his back and bend down to get the thing off his neck…the less bruising on the body the better.

"He dead?" Rocky asks.

And I shrug and slowly shake my head. "Looks like it."

A big cheer is going up from the other men now….and they are told …in a fitting manner to shut the fuck up or join him. They quieten down as the guards begin to filter away and the medics arrive. I don't know what to do now….I've removed the belt and so I stand back and watch for a while. They check his pulse…they put a monitor to his chest and listen electronically to his heart and lungs.

-o-o-o-

Oh god yes…the love paddles….wondrously fantabulous. More, more, more…. I can rest easy knowing they will do this to me for the rest of my life..HAHA!!

Shit…what the fuck…

"Spencer?" And I say it…and I say it again… "Spencer!" and I shout it that time…What the fuck has he done…what's happened… "Get that Fed in here!" I am shouting and they are looking puzzled…they're not fucking moving… "Get Rossi in here!" and I can see someone moving and voices raised and he is by my side…

"What's going on?" He's not a man with an amused expression on his face.

"Where is Spencer….help him…he's….he's done something….He's not breathing…Rossi help him….actually…shit…hit me."

"Pardon?"

"Knock me out,…then go and sort out Spencer…quickly while we still have time." And he is walking away. "I need to be out…I need to help him…Rossi!" but the bastard has gone…he's running though…did he listen to me…and if he did…will he take notice…I have to hibernate…I have to slow down and help him….and help Hotchner…and hope - I hope….I hope this kills me…I hope Morgan gets locked up for this….I need to help Spence and I'm stuck here unable to move….

So I close my eyes and take deep hard breaths and I can see him laying on the floor….I can see the medics standing around…do something…don't just stand there….help him!

* * *

**A/N SORRY IT'S SHORT AGAIN…TOO MANY DISTRACTIONS….AND I TOTALLY BLAME THE APPLE. XXX**

* * *


	17. Chapter 17 Moving In

Chapter 17

Moving In

* * *

I'm not taking the risk that the man is just insane…there is something odd with him…and I will take his alarm as kosher.

It Garcia I call in the middle of the night. Her sleepy voice carries over the airwaves and I can hear the poor woman yawning…

"Sir?"

"I need you to get some numbers for me….quickly. I need to know if something has happened to Reid."

"Sir the numbers? I have them here…do you want me to make the calls? I'll get back to you." I can hear the panic in her voice.

"No…thank you no…just quickly give me the numbers I will need."

And she did….a list of six different numbers which would get me through to six different areas in the prison. All of them almost legal too. The first I get no reply. The second is the wrong department…but they can switch me through…..

…………I wait….it seems like an eternity I have to wait until someone picks up the other end.

"I'm sorry we have an emergency…can you call back?"

"This is Agent Rossi. I am calling about Dr Reid."

Heavy breathing.

"Hello?"

"We care doing what we can."

"I'm sorry, can you explain? What happened?"

I can hear him swallow…and I can hear him sigh…and it sounds like he is pacing. "He was found hanging in his cell." He says this very quickly.

Now it is my turn to breathe heavily and sigh and pace. "And?" I need to know he is alive.

"They are working on him now. I don't know how long he was like it for…not more than fifteen minutes. I'm sorry."

Oh good god no. "They are still working on him though?"

And I hear a sigh again… "They have been for a while now sir….I'm sorry."

I am nodding…but they cant see that….I have to get over there…I have to know how Floyd knew something first though…I have to get my head around this mess…and attempt to work out who is to blame and though I want to…though it seems like the obvious thing to do…I don't think blaming Flanders for this is going to help….

And my mind goes back to Morgan…and throwing him out of the window…and attacking him at the scene of the accident. Whose fault was that….I need to talk to the crime scene people for that…and now…now it is the early hours of the morning and I need to sleep at some point…

I watch in a strange stunned silence as the staff run past me and into Floyd's room again…

The words – "We are losing him." And "Clear!" are being shouted…and I should sleep…I know I will be able to think better if I can sleep…but somehow Floyd's condition and Spencer's are linked…and so I am walking back to his room and standing out of the way as I watch him thrashing around on the bed and foaming at the mouth and screaming a dreadful sound.

-o-o-o-

I know he was hurting Hotch…I don't care what they say…the sonofabitch was killing Hotch.

No I cant prove it….it was Flanders…what the hell proof do I need….the murdering bastard….he shouldn't be loose on the streets anyway…what the hell is going on?

Why am I here…why is the sympathy on him?

You all know what he is?

It's a known fact that he is scum. He rips out hearts and eats them whole…so why are they fussing over him? Why am I the one in the cell?

I should have thrown him harder. I should have taken his head off some how. That would stop him…No one can survive that.

But they are telling me. "You are lucky he's not dead."

I'm not sure I am lucky. They will let him go. They will drop charges…they will do something…he will twist it…and gain favour and before I know it I am the bad guy and he is the poor innocent…Except I know he's not….I know he is up to something…I know….

He knows what I did to Reid.

This is his plan?

Revenge? This is why he is doing this….to take back what he feels I took from him…Because by raping his lover…I despoiled what was his…and he's not going to let me forget that…even though he did what he did to me…I wont let him. I wont let him do this…he is destroying us all.

Scratching away…taking us down one by one…starting with Reid….then Hotch and Em…and now me….and JJ…well I know what my suspicions are there….I will remain silent for now because I'll be damned if I will play all my cards in one hand.

This relationship he has with Reid though…this puzzles me.

For someone who makes out he doesn't give a damn about anyone or anything…he is very protective of the boy. He needs him…but I wouldn't go as far to say it is love.

For now I will sleep…tomorrow I will talk to my attorney. I would like to talk to Hotch about it…but Flanders made sure I couldn't…yes he made sure of that.

-o-o-o-

I felt my body slam against the bars…and initially I attempted to get back to the bed again…maybe this was a mistake….but it was too late…As the world went dark I put my hands to the bars and I was going to hold on…I'm not sure why…not to save myself. I don't deserve to be saved, but it was too late…I could feel my life being pinched out of me….the world turning dark…my feet juddering and hitting the bars…my arms by my side and twitching…and the sound suddenly went stupidly loud and I could hear them cheering me on…and I wish they wouldn't…someone will come and investigate the noise….but not yet….and as the sound dims…and the lights go out…I suddenly feel happy.

He never came for me.

But…that's alright.

He must have had a reason.

Always there is a reason.

And now I am on the floor and they are giving me chest compressions and I want them to get off me.

'Babes!'

is being screamed in my ear….

'No babes…no…..'

and I want to open my eyes and look at him…he is here? Is he here? Or is he just in my head?

-o-o-o-

I watch as they struggle to keep the monster alive….he is shouting out…and he shouldn't be…he shouldn't be able to do that when his heart has stopped.

"No babes….no…" He is shouting out over and over again…how did he know…how the hell did he know something had happened. They are standing back from him and the restraints which were holding his arms still and holding his legs down ping and snap and he is screaming and flailing like a mad banshee and I don't know how this is happening…the monitors still show him as a flat-line. I stand and watch as they throw themselves over him and hold him down and stick needles in him.

"This wont work!" someone is shouting… "This cant work…he has no pulse."

-o-o-o-

I don't know how long this has been going on for…the other prisoners are restless and shouting out again…the gurney is being brought in with a body bag lying on the top. I've talked to the Feds on the phone…but I don't know if they will be coming out…I don't know…and I don't really care…and so I start to back away…they stand back and he is laying unmoving on the floor. Damnit all…a black mark for me but one less bit of scum we have to feed – not that he ate anything and it's as I am backing away that I see it….the sudden hitch in his chest…the way almost ridiculously slowly his head tips back and his mouth opens and a noise like a howl from hell its self issues forth….the most terrible sound I've ever heard….

-o-o-o-

I don't know how he is moving….he's pulled all the straps of and is making the most horrible noises…I step back out of the way and nearly fall over the Federal Agent standing by the wall…he looks as shocked by all of this as I do. I really don't know…the man has a broken neck and back but is still thrashing around on the bed…and no amount of sedatives seem to be working…

He is shouting the same name…. "Spencer." Over and over and spit and blood and pink foam is flying across the room.

Spencer…that was the name on the note he had on him…So I turn to the Fed….

"Do you know who Spencer is?"

He doesn't reply….he doesn't say he doesn't though…so I weave my way through the gathering crowd in the room and grab the note from the tray of belongings.

I make my way back and he hasn't moved…he is just standing taking in the scene.

"There is a letter here for Spencer…he wanted it delivered."

Wordlessly he puts his hand out and takes it from me.

"You will see he gets it?" I don't like the thought that a dying man's wishes might be ignored.

He looks at me and frowns and then nods. "I will see that he gets the letter." He whispers to me and slides it into his pocket. It is somewhat a relief that it is done….I don't have to worry about it now.

-o-o-o-

The medics leap back into action and now the body bag is thrown to the floor and they pick him up and place him on the gurney…his back is bent and arched horribly as he twists and contorts and screams what I can now hear is a name… "Floyd." He is screaming over and over again…the stab needles into his side to try to sedate him…when a minute or so ago they thought he was dead. I will have to call that Agent Rossi back and let him know what is going on. As soon as I know what the hell is going on.

Lots of head shaking and shouting…

Oxygen mask is put over his nose and mouth but he is spitting into it and now….now green bile acidic vomit….the mask is removed and he is pushed over onto his side…I can see…I can see clearly that they have no more idea what is going on than I do.

He is alive though…

……..They wait as he brings up the lining of his stomach and then they try with the mask again…and he has stopped screaming and twisting and fighting with them and is just laying on his side now…and I can see the black bruising on his neck….

"Excuse me." I say as they put the sides of the gurney up and prepare to move him away. "He needs to be kept restrained at all times." I don't want to do this…it seems pointless…He's going no where…but I still hand over the spare cuffs and the key. The medic nods and slaps it around Reid's wrist and then to the side of the cot…"And I need you to sign him out." I hand over the form and a pen. "Please…I can't have my wards just wandering off." Again the medic nods and ticks the boxes and signs his name in the places he has probably done a hundred or so times before and they are going…going…gone.

Alone on duty again and the other guys are calling out again…they want to know what happened.

"He'll be fine!" I call out back, not knowing if it is true and not caring if I lie to them…but needing him to be alright…not wanting a suicide on my watch.

-o-o-o-

I lay on the bed and I know all hell is breaking loose somewhere else and I want to know what is going on…but I just lay here and wait. Someone has put something in my hand…I press it if I need anything and I need a drink…but I can hear them shouting for the doctors….I can hear screams…and I can hear someone shouting Spencer's name over and over again…a horrible drawn out howl that makes me forget the pain I am in and causes my skin to crawl.

"Aaron."

I open my eyes and look at Dave standing at my side. Something is wrong…I know…but I don't want to ask…and I don't think he wants to say. He shakes his head and pulls over a chair. As he sits a candy striper rushes in … "Agent Rossi?" She is out of breath from running. He looks up at her and nods and she passes him a bit of paper… "A message from the State Pen." He nods again and says.

"Thank you miss." And waits until she has left the room…just holding it…not wanting to look…

"Dave?" I have to know…I know something has happened…they cant keep it from me…the not knowing is as likely to cause me damage as the shock of knowing.

"Aaron…Reid…" He looked down at the paper in his hand and I can see his eyes scanning the words. "Reid tried to take his own life. Somehow Flanders knew…I don't know how. He tried to hang himself." I watch Dave rub his hand over his face. "The message here says that he is alive and being take to the infirmary." And he looks up at me. "They don't know how long he was dead for. They had to revive him."

"Was that Flanders making all that noise?"

I watch Dave nod… "I don't know what is going on with that man…how he is still alive…and what is going to happen with Morgan."

I don't want to talk anymore now. I want to be out of this place and with Spencer. I want to comfort him and show him I am there for him…but I can't…and... I can only blame myself for this. My own jealousy and hatred brought this on.

So close my eyes and try to heal…I want to be alone now.

-o-o-o-

I don't know where I am…but they are holding me down…I am screaming for Floyd…I can feel him in my head…I can feel his hands inside me…holding my spirit…nurturing my soul…feeling my heart and loving me…filling me up completely…but I need him…I need to see him…

I try to move but I have been strapped down to something and my neck is in a brace….I shout and pull at the bonds and just get tutted at and pricked with needles and I want to bite…no, no the Floyd in me wants to bite…wants to get away…

"Let me go!" I start to shout…and I keep it up for a long time… "letmegoletmego let me go…..letmego…..I want – need to go!" and it feels as though Floyd lay down next to me and the slid over and became part of me…I can suddenly feel his anger…his pain…his hatred…his doubts…and his love….

I feel I could reach out…just move my hands out ….and rip into people… but they won't let me go!

"Please…let….me –go!"

and I spit at them blood and slime I am coughing up…and slowly very slowly things slow down…they slow and become hard to see….and…..and….it's dark…and darker….and I can't hear….where is everyone…. "Please…someone…help me." But I think that was in my head….Floyd won't let me talk.

* * *


	18. Chapter 18 Old Ends for New Beginnings

Chapter 18

Old Ends for New Beginnings

**A/N: Oh dear. **

* * *

I pace up and down the corridor with Rossi watching me. I don't want to go home…he's told me to…He's said I need to sleep…but can do that pacing….

Another coffee…that will do the trick...

"Prentiss. I will call you if there is any news."

But he doesn't understand.

No one understands.

I'm not here because of Hotch.

Damn yes I care for him…he's my boss…obviously I care for him…he is like a big brother…family…that's not why I am here. I stop pacing and run fingers through my now shortened hair. I want to grip it with my fingers and pull…

"I need to stay." I say…too quickly…and my hands are out of my hair now and in front of me twisting. "There are no jobs on. I can take a few days." I'm not asking permission…I'm telling him. I try to keep my attention on Hotch's door and away from Floyd's….but it his I am interested in…it's his door I want to be pacing out side of…it is him I am worried more than anything about. There is no news. The dreadful noises have stopped and now we just stand around and wait.

"If you are going to wait here….I have something I need to do." I would be happier if he left. I wouldn't feel I was being watched if he was gone. I could ask about Floyd and not feel guilty.

"I'll be here for a while yet. Go and do what you need to do…I will call you if there is any news." I don't know where he is going…but he seems set…so I try to look calm and in control as I virtually push him from the hospital.

Alone….alone at last! I do however check on Hotch first. I go in and he is sleeping…there are bags of chemicals being dripped slowly into him….tubes going in and out of him…a cast on his leg and on his arm. He will be OK….

"You are going to be fine." I whisper it. I don't want to awaken him. I don't want to feel I have to stay.

"He is lucky."

The female voice behind me makes me jump. I turn quickly and see the duty nurse standing there. "Lucky? How?"

"He received first aid at the scene…he would have died without it."

"I see." And I turn back and look at him. "So you owe Floyd your life. That will take some getting used to." I wipe a stray bit of hair off his face and look at his rugged features. "I'll come back later." I say to no one in particular. I need to go and see Flanders now.

I am wearing combat pants and a vest top…both black…and lace up boots…and I am too hot…I can feel I have a wet patch on my back. Hospitals are always too warm…and that cloying chemical smell…GAH!

Standing at his closed door now and I listen for sounds…and there is something but I will have to go in and see what is going on. There are no windows to look in. They have put him somewhere secure and private and it scares me. I place my forearm on the cold wood of the door and push gently and slide into the dim light of his room. I can see what the sounds are now. There is a tube down his throat again…He has things attached to his chest monitoring his heart…Things on his head. They have shaved a place; I can see that now that I am close enough.

"Can I help you?" A voice off to the side. Someone is with him…Slowly I turn to see an orderly sitting back in the shadows…his feet up on a small table…a coffee in his hand.

"I'm a friend."

I turn back and look at him. "Can you tell me what is going on? How is he?"

The orderly I can see in my peripheral vision has stood up and is walking over to me.

"The prognosis isn't good I'm afraid. There is no brain activity. We are keeping him alive but – well…I'm sorry."

So I run my finger tips over the side of his face and look at the face of the man who will happily murder and rape and well…do anything he pleases…and I want him alive so desperately. "Why? Why are you keeping him alive?"

Now my fingers are moving down his bare arm. I run circles around scares and tattoos…and move down to his hand. It is in some kind of contraption keeping his fingers straight.

"Special orders on this one. Sorry…On Mr Flanders. His heart keeps stopping." The orderly is standing at my side staring at the face of the monster with me.

"Special orders?"

"You know…like a DNR…but the opposite. Only one person is permitted to give the order to turn off the machines. Until we get that order – we keep him alive."

"So you are keeping him nourished? And who is that person?"

He waves at the liquids in and out tubes… "He won't starve or die of dehydration…but I can't give you the name."

So I nod…I have a very good idea who it is though…He would only ever trust Spencer with his life. "How long can you keep him alive like this?"

The guy turns to go and sit down again. "As long as the bill is being paid."

"Oh." I won't mention the fact that the likely bill payer is in prison and tried to kill himself. No need to say that.

When I look back down again I see that my fingers are now on running through his hair. "He will be OK Floyd. But I'm sure you know that. You need to come back to us though. We – Spencer and I – we need you." I make sure the orderly is reading his book…and I bend down and kiss Floyd on the forehead. "I'll smoke for you. I'll drink for you….just tell me what you need. I'll try to do it." I think I am as hooked as Spencer is…I feel I will die if he does…But that isn't the issue…I feel he will die if Spencer does. Then what of Hotch…What of Morgan? What about us…us as the family? Floyd's destroyed that…but…but…I don't care.

"I'll be outside. Call me if you want anything." I don't expect and answer…I don't get one. I look up at the machines monitoring his heart and breathing…and mind….and I feel sad tears trying to escape. "Just yell." I say again and I turn and walk away…slowly…giving him the chance to do something…anything …so I know he is still alive, but he's not. Morgan killed him.

And now I am running…running down the quiet corridors to the ladies washrooms…where I empty my stomach contents…and kneel on the floor next to the toilet bowl and sob…stupid girly sad tears for a love I lost before ever had.

-o-o-o-

I can see that odd red light that filters through your eyes when they are closed.

They have kept restraints on me. I want to move my hands…I want to pull this thing off my face they have put back on…my mouth is dry…so dry…my lips feel cracked and he is still with me…still inside me crawling around.

I open my eyes and look around. I can't move my head…it is still in a brace so my eyes dart around looking for someone to ask for a drink. A guard is standing by the door….a gun on his belt. A reminder that I am in a prison and not a hospital….he is there to keep me in…to protect everyone else…not me. I swallow and it hurts…I try to get his attention…but all I seem able to do is move my fingers and he either cannot see that…or he chooses to ignore me.

How long I lay and stare at the ceiling I don't know…but eventually I hear the guard move and with his back to me presses a button….somewhere I can hear a buzzing…then a click…and the door opens.

I don't really know who I was expecting to walk through the door. I was hoping it would have been Floyd…but it's not…It's Rossi….and he is one of the last people I wanted to face. I let him down. I don't want him to see me like this.

And so I close my eyes and try to pretend he's not there.

"Reid." His voice sounds sad. Not angry. "Spencer I know you are awake…please look at me."

So my eyes open slowly and I look up at him. I can't talk…my throat hurts too much…and the mask is still over my face so I just look at him and frown and try to move my fingers.

"I've been at the hospital."

He says to me. "Hotch and Flanders are both in a bad way."

And now I have to ask…I need to know what has been going on.

"I have a letter for you…from Flanders."

And I think I am going to cry and I feel so damned stupid. Please Rossi take the mask off for me. But he doesn't. He doesn't even touch me. But he pulls the bit of paper out of his pocket and reads it to me and this time I am crying. I didn't trust him…I didn't wait, but why isn't he here?

"He's been in an accident…Hotch and Flanders…separate incidences. I'm sure otherwise one of them would have come to you."

And I flex my fingers and frown again.

This time he reaches over and pulls the mask away and with a tissue wipes at my eyes.

"I wish there was something I could do Spencer. There is nothing…I'm sorry. Really I am sorry. I wouldn't have wished this outcome on anyone."

I see him glance behind him and then back at me. "Hold on in there, but please I would love to tell you Floyd will be alright…but….."

"I know." I say…and my voice sounds wrong. "I need to go to him."

"And I will see if we can arrange something Spence. His life support……." And he doesn't need to finish the sentence.

"It's OK….I know."

And I want to curl up into a little ball…but they wont let me…they have me strapped down tightly.

"I will talk who I need then…get you moved over to the hospital."

But I'm not listening anymore….I don't want to hear anymore…I want it to all go away. I want to start over fresh….I want….I want to go clubbing…would you believe! Go to the club and feel Floyd's hand on my backside and feel his arm around my waist…and smell that special smell…and just be normal. Watch the guys walking by and pass remarks on them…and just…just be with him…one last time.

-o-o-o-

Sometimes shit can be so thick you can't get out of it.

I've moved over….by body is broken…Morgan made sure of that…but my spirit and my soul are still whole…I need a job done…and if you want it done properly you have to do it yourself.

How long do I crouch in the dark listening to the voices.

How long do I listen to the beating of wings…and feel those sudden rushes of hot air.

"This wasn't my doing."

I tell them.

I tell them a lot.

"I need to go back and complete."

But they are curious…why I started to heal him. They want to know my motivation behind this action. I could have let him die in the street. Why didn't I? Why did I go to help?

"A couple of reasons." I tell them… "Spencer would have wanted me to help him. Also…it is not so much fun killing a dying man…as it is killing a healing one."

So they are asking me what my plan is. Will I want my body back again…and yes I will…obviously eventually I will need it back….I cant live in Spencer forever – but I can use him for a while.

They want to know if I will want Spencer back again…Can I fix this and still have him?

But I don't think I can. I have to be brutal and selfish – nothing too new there…and think of myself….again…nothing new to me. It's how I have survived so long.

They offer me a deal.

"Get rid of Hotchner and you can have your body back. Make it entertaining and you can have Spencer too."

I'm not sure how they will manage that, but I can think of an entertaining way to do it. "Whatever happens to him?"

"Whatever happens…you keep your side of the deal…and as always we will keep ours."

I lick my lips and consider this, because….if they change their minds…if they are lying to me then I am fucked…and not in the good way either.

"I need a token."

This will make sure they will keep their end of the bargain.

A coin drops to the floor in front of me and spins on one edge for a while before toppling to lay heads up. I pick it up and turn it over in my hands. "I'll do it."

"Good job….keep it entertaining remember."

"I will." And I know ….damn my offspring…I know this is going to hurt…not me…I'll be ok…but this is going to hurt a lot of people…not just physically. "But I need to know…for sure…I can have Spencer as mine."

Someone somewhere claps their hands and it echoes around this mighty place…reaching out into every deep dark shadow…and walking from one of them appears a boy…older than when I last saw him…probably about sixteen now….He looks at me with his dark eyes and dark hair hanging down touching his shoulders. He gives me a smirk and a nod and holds up a large watch on a long golden chain.

"Don't worry about that…just make it fun…and Sam here will fix it."

So I smile back at him…and nod… "OK…send me back." I slide the coin deeply down into my pocket and close my eyes and wait for that feeling…of rushing and flying…and crashing and sliding.

-o-o-o-

I sleep but I don't know for how long…and when I awaken it feels again as though Floyd is here with me…inside me…moving around…but someone is talking to me and they are removing the restraints. The neck brace is taken away and finally I can put my hands up to my neck and scratch at the sore skin.

"Reid." Rossi is there. "I need you to listen to me carefully." I slowly and painfully turn on the bed so that I am now lying on my side and looking at Rossi who is pacing up and down. "You are being released for twenty four hours on my recognisance. I'm taking you so you can say your goodbyes to Flanders…and see Hotchner…and then I am bringing you back again."

"I understand."

"We are doing this on the understanding that you will sign the papers to turn off Flanders life support."

I look at him and slowly…very slowly I nod. "I understand."

"You don't have a problem with this?"

"I would sooner be turning of Morgan's life support – but my options are limited." I don't know where those words came from…not from my thoughts. I bite on my bottom lip and tell my brain…tell the thing inside of me to shut up. He will spoil everything. "Sorry." I mutter…but Rossi is giving me a strange look. I am given a pair of jeans to wear and a shirt. I keep the sleeves down and the cuffs undone so when the metal cuffs are re attached to my wrists as I know they will be…well it won't notice quiet as much. I am given a pair of gym shoes and it feels good to be dressed….but man does my neck hurt. Considering I had wanted to break it though…maybe I shouldn't be complaining. I am given a drink of water and then the journey to say goodbye to Floyd begins.

I should be thinking of Hotch too….but I can't…my mind constantly goes back to the man I love. The man I am going to kill.

'_It's ok…I'll be ok.'_

A voice says in my head…in my heart…in my soul…and I feel too hot and light headed…but I ignore it and walk with Rossi out of the prison doors and over to his car. The cuffs holding my hands in front of me.

"I realise how difficult this is for you Spencer." He says as he opens the door of the SUV for me. "I'm sorry it has come down to this." I want to talk to him….but the Floyd inside me keeps me silent.

'_We are going to have fun.'_

The voice says…and I want to know what he means by that, but he won't let me ask.

Rossi straps me in then walks around to the other side. The journey will take about half an hour. It's not far…too far…and not far enough all at the same time. Rossi talks to me as he drives…he talks to me about past cases…he talks to me about things he has written…he is trying to get me to talk back to him…to open up and I need to…I need to show him I am alright…but I cant….my throat hurts…I crushed it…its swollen and painful and I don't want to talk. My head aches…pouncing and throbbing endlessly…reminding me that I am still alive. I can feel where they gave me compressions on my chest…They didn't break my ribs….but I am bruised. I bring my hands up to my face and push my hair clumsily behind my ears and I listen…and sometimes I slowly turn and look at Rossi…but I don't respond.

I can see the hospital looming up in front of us now….and the thing in side of me is excited….it has plans…It is going to use me for something in exchange for freedom….and I don't know if I can…I don't know what this thing wants me to do yet.

"Reid?"

I snap my head around to look at Rossi forgetting the pain in my neck.

"Owww" and my hands fly to my neck to ease the pain…forgetting the cuffs on my wrists and catching myself in the face with them.

"Reid." A hand is on my arm. "We are here…are you ready?"

I look over at him slower this time. "I'll never be ready for this." I get an understanding nod in return.

"Let's get it done then." And he gets out of the car and moves around to un-strap and let me out of the car. He keeps the cuffs on me and I pull at the sleeves of my shirt and give them an irritated look. I hear the bleep and the sound of the doors locking as Rossi walks away and points the remote back at the car. "Come on then." He says to me…as I stand unmoving. "Spencer?" I look up at him and sigh…and the sigh hurts my soul….but I walk slowly towards him.

"I was thinking….I don't know how to say goodbye. I don't know what to say."

And I feel Rossi take my arm and we walk together. "Say what is in your heart Spencer." And I nod….and I want to tell Floyd in my head to shut up…he's laughing…and his laugh always makes me laugh too…and that would seem wrong. We walk through the main doors and over to the elevator. He still has his hand on my arm…but not tightly…not to hold onto me…more of a comforting hand. I think that is what it is for and I appreciate it. I hate being touched…but right now I need to know that someone is thinking…because I can't.

I let out a small sigh as the doors close and the elevator starts its journey upwards. "They are both of the fifth floor." Rossi tells me. His hand drops from my arm and so I take a step back and lean on the wall. My head is spinning…and I can feel someone crawling around in my brain…picking at things…laughing at things…shouting at me…

'_You have some nasty dirty little memories don't you whore boy?'_

So I want to slap at my head and shout at the voice….but it is in my head…it's not real…I've lost my mind…I know that…I know, but I have to keep it from Rossi or he will return me and I wont be able to say goodbye.

I didn't notice that we were there…I didn't feel us stop….and I didn't see the doors open. "Spencer." And a hand on my arm…and I start to walk again….

"Can I see Hotch first please?" I ask…I want to say sorry first. I want to….I need to….and we are standing in front of the doors and he is the other side.

'_I can smell him.'_

But I just nod. I don't talk back to the voice in my head. I turn to Rossi and say something…again…not words from my mind…from somewhere else. "Can I go in alone?" and the face in front of me looks smudged and wrong…but the words are…

"Yes." And the door is opened for me. "But I can't take the cuffs off."

"That's alright." I say…because it is.

"I will have to lock you in the room Reid….I can't have you wandering off."

"That's alright." I say…because again it is and I am walking into the room with Hotch laying on a bed and a monster crawling around in my head.

I walk slowly…but the sound of the door alerts him to my presence and I stop walking when I am arms length from the bed.

"Hey." I say and lift my hands up to show him the cuffs. "I've been given a few hours to sort things out."

And at first I don't think he is going to say anything…but he licks his lips and blinks. "Spencer, we will sort this out."

I bite on my bottom lip and move in closer. "I am here to sign papers to have Floyd's life support turned off. This cannot be sorted out Hotch. Morgan killed him."

My voice sounds bitter and I look for some sort of reaction from Hotch.

"He didn't deserve this…I didn't deserve this." I move closer. "I didn't want to hurt anyone…you know that don't you?"

"Of course I know that."

"You will forgive me then?"

And he looks worried as I scrabble up so I am kneeling on the bed next to him.

"Reid …what are you doing?"

And I don't know what I am doing…this isn't me….I want to go…I want to say goodbye and go and be locked up and never be seen again…but something is moving me and now I am kneeling with a knee either side of Hotch's hips.

"I'm sorry."

And I am…I really am…I don't want to do this to him…

"Please….please don't do this." I mutter…and pull the cuffs off my wrists and hold them in my fists and use them as a weapon.

The first blow is to his mouth. I can feel teeth cracking under the metal of the restraints I am holding….I see he wants to call out…to shout something but I am pounding on his face now…with a strength I don't own. I feel his nose crack I feel my finger snap under the force…and I too want to shout out and ask for help…but my breaths have stopped….all there is now is the feeling of Hotch's face getting smashed under my fists….He tries to push me off…he tries…but he loves me…he loves what he thinks I am…and he doesn't want to hurt me…so it gives me the advantage…I can feel blood spraying on my face…and when I look down I see him staring up at me…and I see my hand on his throat pressing in…

The world is going a funny colour and everything is moving much too fast….I can taste his blood in my mouth…I can feel it running down my face…I lick my lips and get more of it on my tongue and it is lovely…

He is trying to struggle under me…but he is damaged…and he can't fight the monster inside of me…

'_Kill him babes….free yourself.'_

And I can hear the lock on the door…so I am quick…I have to be….I lean in and I whisper in Hotch's ear. "Bye."

I tear at his neck with my teeth…I feel a great rush of blood in my face and down my throat…something inside me is screaming with delight…and I am laughing…and I don't know why….but the jerking and twitching under me feels good….and …someone is shouting my name…shouting something out to me….but…………

The monster has gone…and I hear a gun shot…and something hits me between the shoulder blades.

My world ends as I fall forwards into the mess which used to be Hotch.

* * *

**end**

**A/N: TO BE CONTINUED.**

* * *


	19. Chapter 19 An Epilogue

An Epilogue.

* * *

I came here every day for the first week….

Then it was every week…

Now it is once a month….but last month…well I didn't make it last month. Work got in the way….I wasn't in the area….you know how it is?

Someone has paid for a head stone for him. I don't know who it was…but it is black shiny marble.

It has his name and his date of birth and you know…I find it hard to say…I find it hard to admit that it happened.

The inscription under that says 'ALWAYS AND FOREVER LOVED'

And under that. 'I am waiting.'

I think Flanders must have sorted this…I cant see who else would have had those feelings…not enough to put it there for all to see.

I used to bring a flower with me…but I don't do that now.

So I stand and look at the bit of ground with its precious treasure hidden under it…and I won't cry…I've shouted and I've gotten drunk…and I've blamed myself. If I hadn't reacted the way I had to Flanders…maybe this wouldn't have happened. Slowly I walk back from the grave….

"See you in a few months kiddo." No point in pretending…I doubt I will be back again this year.

So I turn and walk away.

-o-o-o-

It's very cold today…the ground is hard and there has been a frost again. I hate to think of Spencer under the ground in the cold, but…what is the point in visiting a bit of dirt….he won't know I'm there…

And I didn't visit him when he was alive…I'm not likely to visit him now am I?

So I am sitting in the car looking over the cemetery…and I have a pebble in my hand. I chose it carefully and I scratched something on its flat surface. I look at the words and run my finger over the lettering and sigh.

It's a long cold walk to where he is sleeping…and by the time I get there I can feel that crispness in the air which is telling me it is going to snow. The pebble though is warm in the palm of my hand and I open my fist and look down at it. It is the same colour as Spencer's eyes….a beautiful golden colour. With a deep sigh I place it on the top of the head stone. I'm not sure how long I stand there silently for. There is no point in talking. I've said all there is to say; night after night in my apartment…screaming my words at the off white walls.

So I squeeze my eyes closed and refuse to let the tears come….not in public. Never again….I will never cry again.

And I look at the cold hard ground and smile and nod and turn and walk away just as the first flakes of snow falls.

-o-o-o-

Once a week….without failure…Actually I have a special account set up now…and the flowers are delivered. I go to the shop on a Friday after work and write on the card.

'Missing you Sweet Cheeks. Pen XXX'

Sometimes I say something different….but that is my usual…I feel comfortable saying that.

The other card I write on says. 'Respected Loved Admired and Missed – Garcia.'

No kisses…it doesn't feel right blowing kisses to your boss you know?

This means….well…is it good or bad? But I do try to get there every week…At first I went with Derek. But he gets busy. So I go alone…and yes…I try to get there every week…and I will kneel on the grass next to Spencer and I will read to him. He will be amazed I'm sure of the amount of stuff I have been reading. I hope he likes it.

I keep him updated on his graphic novels too…I have quite the collection now.

Once I had a picnic – just the two of us. I brought up a checked red and black blanket and a flask of coffee and candies in little bowls. I spent most of the day there…it was in the summer and the sun was really hot and I got sun burn on my nose….but it was worth it. I read to him and drank coffee and told jokes – and explained them – and it was good. It was like that final goodbye you know? That feeling of complete peace there that day.

I've not done it again…I wouldn't be able to get that feeling back again. All other times will be a let down. I was going to ask Derek…but he is still so angry about everything I think it would have tarnished the jolly feeling that day had.

So I've just read you the latest issue…and to be honest with you hon. I need the next issue to hurry up and come out! I need to know what happens. I will come back as soon as I have it. As soon as it is in my hands I will come up here and read it to you.

Always before I leave I put a kiss on my fingers and transfer it to the ground. Sleep sound.

I try to get back to the car before I cry. I've done so much crying up here I think I have been watering the grass.

-o-o-o-

I come up here when I can.

The first couple of times I met up with Haley and we came together… but she stopped coming up so often…It's one of those things…something you have to carry on once you have started…and however much someone is loved…gradually that pain lessens…or you become accustomed to it…or you forget. Either way the visits become less often. The person under the ground isn't any less loved. Hotch was cremated. He resides in a small pot under the ground…and he has a big grey and brass marker set into the ground. 'Much loved and missed Daddy.' And it breaks my heart every time I look at it. Today I have the usual small bunch of flowers in my hand. Other people have been here…there are other flowers and offerings…a couple of candles have been lit at some point. I don't know if it is Haley or someone else, but it is nice. It makes me smile.

There is also a small red fire truck sitting there next to some pink roses….and a little metal soldier lying on his side. I stand him up and place him next to the fire truck and again it makes me smile. Jack has been here.

I put my yellow flowers in the container provided and then I rummage around in my pocket….I was a boy scout…I always have useful handy items in my pockets…I pull something out and then just stand. I say some prayers…things I learned as a boy…once there never forgotten…a bit like Aaron…and slowly as it gets dark I bend down and pull a card match from the green book 'Gino's Bar' Written on the front, and I light the candles.

A sigh…and I turn to leave.

I know someone has been watching me…I can feel it…some days more than others…today…as it starts to snow and I can hear the hissing of the flakes on the flames…I know….today I know Flanders is there watching.

-o-o-o-

I watch them come and go. They visit Hotchner more often.

I could give you exact numbers but I'm sure you don't want to hear my statistics.

It has started to snow and so I walk over and sit with Spencer.

"Soon babes." I mutter and run my hand over the ground. "Soon I will have you back again."

They didn't keep to their word. Even though I have the token they went back on their word. Sure they gave me back my body…they fixed that for me. I am free. I can start over, but what is the point when I don't have Spencer.

I live most of my time up here now.

Even bring others here…and I know I shouldn't do that…I know screwing some whore on Spencer's grave isn't the done thing, but it's the closest I will get to him…..unless I can make them change their minds.

I stand sometimes and watch them come to see him. Gradually less and less…the only one who is here regularly is that Garcia chick. She's ok…I don't mind her. I've seen her cry…I watched her shout at the sky. Yes she's ok.

Derek Morgan…who tried to kill me and only succeeded in killing Spencer and Hotchner. It is his fault…I will remind him of that one day…next time I see him…I will remind him of what he has done…And today feels like the right day. There is an old tree…just over from where the new plots are. They don't like having trees here…the roots get in the way. But this is a lovely old tree…and it spills its leaves in the fall and I can sit in them and imagine Spencer is here too…he loves this time of the year…now though…the leaves are gone…so I just stand in the shadows and I wait.

It's not long….a few hours…that is nothing when you have a life time to do something. I have my orders…I know what I have to do….and so here he comes. The bastard who wanted to kill me. I watch as he stands and does nothing.

He doesn't talk…he has no gifts…just stands and looks at what he caused and so I walk slowly up behind him…and in my hand I have the biggest damned hand gun your might ever see. I know…I know I promised…but he's gone now…and without Spencer the promise is nullified.

"I will kill you for what you did."

I say it slowly and clearly. I don't want him to be mistaken. I want him to know who did this to him

"I am going to blow your fucking brains out and fuck you."

Slowly I watch as he turns around.

"Go for your gun Agent Morgan. Please give me a reason…I would love to plead self defence and there isn't a jury in the land who wont believe me. You know that don't you?"

His hands are down by his side and his eyes are watching me closely. "You sonofabitch." He mutters.

"Yes I am…but that doesn't really matter anymore. I have my orders Agent Derek Morgan…and though it pains to me to do it…I would rather have my Spencer back than know you are walking around free."

He looks confused. "You can't have Spencer back! He is dead!"

"And you killed him!" I shout back at him… "If you hadn't damaged me the way you did I would have been able to protect him!" Which is a lie obviously as it was me who made him do it…but Morgan doesn't know that.

He takes a step forward. "This isn't going to get Spencer back…it will just get you slammed up…where you should be anyway."

I waggle the gun. "You need to take two steps back away from me Agent Derek Morgan…and then you need to kneel….and you need to apologise to Spence for what you did."

And he frowns but takes two steps back…I want him kneeling on the grave. I need him there.

"KNEEL!" I shout at him.

And he does and at last he looks worried.

"Hands behind your head nigger."

And he does this too…and I stand with my ancient gun pointed at him. "You took advantage of him. That day – that Friday…you took advantage of Spencer."

He is just watching me. Trying to work out if I will do it…and I will…

And he knows I will. He is waiting for me to make a mistake…and I won't. This is too important. I just need to do something; and so with one hand still firmly on the gun and my eyes still fixed on the murdering raping scum I slide my hand into my pocket and pull out the token. I lift it to my lips and kiss it.

"An exchange." I mutter. "My token…for this soul." And I throw it to him; it bounces off his chest and falls to the damp evening grass. "Pick it up." I snap at him…and watch as one hand comes from behind his head and he picks the coin up out of the grass. "Look at me." I want him to see the round coming for his face. I want to see that look on his face as the back of his head comes off. He looks up at me and I smile at him. "Goodbye Agent Derek Morgan." And my round takes him between the eyes.

I was going to move in now…I was going to have him...but someone touches my arm and I turn to see Sam.

"I want him."

So I nod and I drop the gun into the grass and I back away.

"I will wait." I say to my spawn.

"You want to watch?" He turns and looks at me with my own face.

"I want to watch." I confirm. "And I want to remind you….To reset."

"Take a seat daddy…you might learn some new tricks."

And it snowed….great beautiful drifts of snow…and I watched my boy and now I wait for my Spencer.

* * *

**Another end.**

**A/N: JUST TO TIE UP ENDS WHICH I WANTED TO TIE UP. **

* * *


End file.
